Revenge
by mesmeric angel
Summary: Christine has left Erik with a gaping hole in his heart. But Erik has had enough. It's time for his revenge. reviews are appreciated
1. The Pain of Betrayal

"WHY CHRISTINE? WHY?" he shouts as he throws the contents of the nearby table onto the floor. Clutching at his face he violently throughs his body into the wall. When he makes contact with the wall he takes his hands from his face to punch the wall continuously until his knuckles are covered in crimson. "CHRISTINE!" He cries, trying in vain to call her back to him. Her kiss still stung his lips. "WHY did you do this to me!" he asks heaven and Christine as he begins to slump to the floor utterly spent. Laying on the floor, hands bleeding and seering with pain, tears soaking both of his uncovered cheeks he stares at the ceiling. "Why?" he whispers through his sobs. Soon the corners of his vision begins to blur and he becomes light headed from the perfuse amouts of blood draining from his knuckles. He slowly lets the darkness consume him and silently prays for death. Death, he thinks to himself, would be much better than living after what had just happened.

"So do you end your days with me or do you send him to his grave?" he sings clutching tightly onto the end of the death rope.

"Why make her lie to you to save me?" Raoul shouts back in his face.

"Angel of music...you decieved me. i gave you my mind blindly," the girl on the shore spits at him.

"I loose my patience, make your choice!" he shouts to the weeping girl on the bank.

"pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you know?" the girl sings as she glides into the water, slowly shortening the distance between the beauty and the beast. He knew what was about to happen, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Her words were lost among his pleas for her to discontinue her journey, and begs of her to stop what she is about to do. Before he knows it her lips are on his. She returns the ring then releases Raoul. Then before his eyes his Christine is leaving him, taking his soul with her. Raoul and Christine leave him to weep.

"Christine..." He whispers still clutching the ring. "Why?"


	2. Love Turns to Hate

Silently he peels his eyes open. Frowning he realizes he isnt dead, and his beautiful musical hands are crippled with blood and a few broken knuckles. Standing he feels slightly nausiouse. Taking a few deep breaths it passes slightly and he wonders just how long he had been out. He had wished for sweet death, but had only gotten nightmares, but they were not just nightmares, they were his painful memories. It had all happened what seemed like moments ago. "

Why Christine?" he asks once more, but there were no tears left to accompany the words. Touching his lips he could still feel the kiss. Walking towards the lake he resolves to clean himself, perhaps it would take his mind off the painful memories. On his way to the lake he passes the amazingly accurate manikin of Christine.

"Why did you do this to me? All i asked was for you to return your love!" He pleas with it. "How could you give me something so passionate...then leave! WITH HIM!" As he says the words he realizes something. She did not kiss him because she felt something...she had kiss him to save her viscount. Clenching his fists he begins to shake with rage as he comes to this new realization. She was not thinking of how he felt right now, she was probably reveling in the presence of her viscount. Closing his eyes he can almost see the two. They were mocking him. Laughing at his pain.

Suddenly laughter echoed through the caverns of his underground domain. He was laughing. He the Phantom was laughing. "Oh..." He says through his evil chuckle,"You will pay..." he dirrects this at the manikin. "You will hurt as i have hurt!" now he has ahold of the manikin shaking it slightly. "This time, it IS war upon YOU BOTH!" He shouts throwing the manikin aside. Chuckling to himself he remember the first time he said those words. They had been forgotten when he once again had his Christine in his grasp, but this time...this time he would not show them the mercy he had before, because they had never shown him mercy. Taking off his shirt and plunging into the cold water he smirks. "Oh how you will pay!" he whispers evilly as he submerses under the crystal surface of the dark water.


	3. A Face from the Past

"Raoul?" a voice calls down the halls of the mansion. Raoul, who is protectively cradling his wife looks up happily.

"Who's that?" Christine asks.

"Thats my sister!" Raoul says jumping up and running for the hall. Looking left then right he screams,"Amy!"

"Raoul!" The girl screams once more and runs for him. Opening his arms he watches as she runs towards him, then finally jumps into his awaiting arms. The two laugh as he spins her around. Christine walks to the threshold of the door and watches Raoul spin his younger sister around. Long straight dark brown hair flies out of her half pinned up hair, around her face and her blue-green mosaic eyes flash with delight as her brother embraces her. Vaguely Christine remembers the girl from when she was child and friends with Raoul.

"How are you? Where've you been?" Raoul questions placing Amy on her feet.

"Woah, one question at a time!" she says smiling.

"Fine, how are you?" Raoul asks.

"I'm great, though its been far too long big brother," Amy says hugging Raoul.

"Indeed, where've you been?" He asks.

"I should ask you the same thing!" Amy retorts placing her hands on her hips.

"I've been here, at the estate and in Paris!" Raoul says as if Amy should already know this.

"Well i've been here at the estate for a few days and have yet to catch sight of you! But...i have been...preoccupied in England," Amy says rubbing her arm.

"Preoccupied?" Raoul says raising his eye brow.

"You know, schools and stuff," Amy says.

Raoul laughs,"You never did like schooling!"

"No," Amy chuckles lightly. Suddenly her gaze shifts to the girl standing in the doorway. "Oh!" Amy says surprised,"Would you like to introduce me to your friend?"

Raoul looks over at Christine and jumps,"OH! How rude of me, this is Christine Daae, remember...when we were children we were playmates!" Raoul says taking Christine in his arms.

"Christine..." Amy says to herself,"It sounds very familiar...OH! CHRISTINE!" Amy says in realization. Christine smiles and nods. "How are you? Why are you here? How did you two reunite?" Amy fires out many questions. Christine opens her mouth, but isn't sure of which question to answer first.

"Why don't we discuss this over dinner?" Raoul suggests. He offers Christine his arm and this other arm to Amy. They both take his arm giggling and make their way to the dining hall. Through the course of dinner Raoul explains to Amy that they had reunited at the Opera house. Raoul and Christine both silently agreed that they would not tell Amy about the Phantom and their wild adventures.

"Wow, how fairytaleish," Amy says taking a bite of her dinner. "Well when did you get married?" Amy asks,"And why did you not tell me? I would have come!"

Raoul and Christine look guiltily at eachother then with appologies they explain that there was a series of terrible accidents caused by a madman at the Opera House. After all that Raoul never wanted to be apart from Christine so they had married at once. After hearing about the chandlier crash and the aweful fire that proceeded it Amy meerily stares at the two in disbelief.

"WOW, thats amazing and romantic! I guess i can forgive you for marrying without me, but what of the madman? did they catch him? did he die? did he-" But she is cut off when there is a loud clattering from the kitchen. Raoul immediately stands, as if ready to fight when a servant comes out and appologizes for the disturbance. Christine, who is now standing as well, goes to Raoul and tries to calm him by rubbing her hands over his chest. Amy dismisses the servant and looks back to the two.

"Are you guys okay?" Amy asks concerned.

"Yes, but if you don't mind i would like to steal your brother for a second," Christine asks smiling.

"He's your husband!" Amy says taking a sip of her soup.

Christine leads Raoul from the room and as soon as Raoul shuts the doors to the dining room Christine begins to rant. "We can never tell her of Erik! She must never know! It was wrong to tell her that there was even a madman!" Christine says.

Raoul motions for her to be quiet,"Amy might hear you."

"Sorry," Christine sighs. Raoul walks over to her and rubs her arms lovingly. "Raoul, was it wrong to send the mob away from the course to Erik's lair...they might have found him and taken him away. Locked him away!"

"Christine, i dont think after what happened Erik he will do anything. I doubt he is even in Paris!" Raoul says smiling trying to reassure Christine with their decision.

"We just...left him there..." Christine says.

"He let us go, in a way...he forgave us. He loved you enough to let you go, now can we forget him and have a pleasant evening. We shall never speak of the monster around Amy...for both our sakes" Raoul says. Christine smiles and the two rejoin Amy in the dining room.


	4. Laughter and Shadows

"I don't know if i've ever had a meal that good?" Amy says smiling contently by the fire. Christine and Raoul smile as they cuddled together on the small sofa adjacent from Amy's chair.

"So Amy, how was school?" Raoul asks.

"Yes, you barely spoke about yourself at dinner!" Christine insists.

Amy opens her eyes and shifts in her seat uncomfortably. "Well um...theres not much to tell. Schools school! You remember Raoul..." Amy says smiling.

"Well i went to an all boys school...then was home schooled remember?" Raoul asks.

"oh yeah..." Amy says remembering.

"Amy, is there something you aren't telling us?" Raoul asks suspiciuosly.

"Me? Hide something from you? Never big brother!" Amy says smiling innocently while twirling her hair around her finger. Raoul laughs and shakes his head. Christine smiles at the girl's mischievety.

"Fine, don't tell me," Raoul conceeds, realizing he is going to get nothing from his sister tonight. Amy laughs at the grimace his brother makes as he gives up. Christine joins her and soon the room is a buzz with laughter as Amy regails Christine with stories of Raoul as a child, much to Raoul's dismay. The three stays in the room laughing and smiling gayly, completely unaware of the watching shadow outside the window.

* * *

"Perfect, simply perfect..." he thinks to himself smiling, flashing his canines in the moon. For nearly two months he had been stalking around the mansion. Completely unseen by anyone and everyone. He was the Phantom after all. He had learned their everyday routines. Every step they took during the day was enscribed in his brain. It was all part of his revenge. Up until now he didn't know exactly what his revenge was going to be. Scowling he watches his Christine playing with the ties of Raoul's shirt. His blood begins to boil until he thinks he is going to have to burst through the window and simply destroy the boy. But that would be to easy. He wanted them to suffer. And he was staring at his solution to his revenge. The girl sitting across from Christine and Raoul, playing with her long dark brown hair. The fire made shadows dance across her face giving her a wicked look with the mischief in her eyes. Yes, she would serve his purpose quite well. What better way to get to the boy than through his baby sister. 


	5. The Calm Before the Storm

The evening had been wonderful. Seeing her brother after all those years. Their reunion had been almost perfect, until he had to bring up school. Sighing Amy moves to the mirror to let down her hair. It had been an exaughsting day and an entertaining day. Seeing Christine again was probably the most astonishing thing that had happened to her in awhile. She had never expected to see that girl after so many years.

Finally all the stupid pins were out of her hair. Amy shakes her hair wildly letting it bush out. Sitting down she slowly begins to brush her hair. Looking around at the room Raoul had given her she smiles remembering it from when she was younger. It was completely red, red carpet, red and with accented gold wall paper. Her vanity was placed up against the wall near the door to her very own bathroom. On the wall adjacent to the door was a large four post mahogoney bed with white bedding and a white veil canopy. To the right of the bed was a large mahogoney closet and full length mirror. The wall to the left of the bed was made completely out of window doors. The doors lead out to a large terrace, but being her room was on ground level the terrace opened up to the back yard, which was an immense field. There was a large garden which grew cherry trees and many assorted flowers. It was so much more than she was used to, though she was a de Chagney.

Suddenly a chill swept through the room. Spinning in her chair she looks around silently. "Hello?" she calls out. No one answers. Suddenly she notices one of the window doors open. Smiling she stands up, shuts the door, and pulls the heavey red velvet curtains over the white veil ones. As she turns back into the room she feels as if she is not alone. Looking around she sees nothing but shadows made by her lamp. Scolding her supersticious ways she moves toward the bed and gently pulls back the covers.

Removing her white veil material robe and letting it fall to a pile on the floor she glides into bed. Her white silk nightgown rubbing smoothly against her skin tickles her slightly as she situates herself under the covers. Finally situating herself among the mountains of fluffy covers she rolls over and extinguishes the lamp casting the room in deep shadows. Slowly the moonlight fills the room giving the firey room a now docile icey color. Opening her eyes Amy looks to the windows allowing the moonlight to creep through the thin white curtains. Puzzled Amy sits up exposing her bare shoulders to the cold air in the room. Shrugging she lays down and closes her eyes, forgetting about the curtian and revelling in the silvery glow of the moonlight.


	6. Resurrection

He had said it was over. But as he looked in on the sleeping form of the girl who would aid in his revenge he knew that was the only way to get her to him. He had to bring it back, go against his word and bring it back. So he pulled out his back box and with a smirk took out the contents and let his eyes fall closed.


	7. The Angel's Calling

_Amy..._

It was almost an inaudible whisper, but she had heard it. Opening her eyes slowly Amy sits up looking around her room.

_Amy..._

There it was again. Was she dreaming? There was no one in her room. Rubbing her eyes she was almost possitive she was awake, but where was that voice coming from. It sounded like nothing she had ever heard before. Suddenly she realizes that the window doors that had been open before were now reopened, their white curtains flapping lightly in the evening breeze. Before she can ponder this further the sound of a violin catches her ears. Suddenly the voice that had been calling her name begins to sing.

_"Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation . . . Darkness stirs and wakes imagination . . . "_

In a trance like state she glides out of the bed barefoot and moves towards the doors. Curiously she looks around the terrace and sees no one. Where was the music coming from? Forgetting about the chilly evening she is drawn onto the terrace, no shoes and no robe, meerly a silk thin strapped nightgown.

_"Silently the senses abandon their defences . . . "_

Slowly making her way down the steps of the terrace she follows the voice, not seeing an owner to the magnicent voice, but going on instinct and hearing. The voice seemed to be everywhere, drawing her away from her room and into the backyard. This had to be a dream.

_"Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendour . . . Grasp it, sense it - tremulous and tender . . . "_

She was now frolicing away farther and farther into the garden, when suddenly she realizes that the house is getting farther and farther away. Turning back her head she looks at the few glowing lights left through-out the house, a small fear moving through her.

_"Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light - "_

It felt as if some imaginary hand had been placed on her cheek, drawing her attention from her house, back fully to the voice.

_"and listen to the music of the night . . . "_

Under the full power of the voice she begins to frolic through the rows of flowers and other lawn ornaments. Now the voice became more brave it seemed, urging her to increase her speed.

"_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams! Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!"_

The only thought in her mind was finding the angel who's voice serenaded her.

_"Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!"_

She had not realized it but she was spinning in a circle, eyes closed. Letting the voice caress her body, letting it pull her any way it wished. Her mind was now under the control of the voice. Suddenly the voice stopped as did her spinning and she was breathless.

_"And you'll live as you've never lived before . . . "_

She waited. Waited for the voice to call to her again. Oh how real this dream felt. Each word was like a wave of emotions and as they ended they pulled her in like the tide and she was helpless to struggle. The voice began its call once more, but more delicate in its beconing, allowing her to almost dance her way to it.

_"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. . . Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you. . . Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness which you know you cannot fight - the darkness of the music of the night . . . "_

At this point she had come to the edge of the great cherry tree maze, nearly to the edge of their property. The voice now had become so intense she found herself running towards in, wanting, needing to know where it came from.

_"Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world! Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before!"_

The voice was everywhere, but nowhere still, so increasing her pace she makes her way out of the cherry trees and towards the woods, the edge of the De Chagney property.

_"Let your soul Take you where you long to be !"_

On the last words she broke through the folliage barriar, keeping her from the voice. The owner of the voice now stood before her. The last words were long and held out, powerful and as they stop they leave her breathless. They stood there in silence. Stunned, somehow she was sure this voice could belong to no man. When she had first broken through he had his back turned to her, but as his last notes sounded he turned with a swish of his cape to capture her eyes.

_"Only then can you belong to me . . . "_

The power and majesty of this man's voice were only matched by the elegent and regal stature that he held himself with. He was beautiful, thick black hair, strong body, chilling icey eyes, and a darkness unlike anything she had ever felt, and it intrigued her. He was quite expensively dressed in immaculate evening attire and long cape, and therefore obviously a gentleman. The most odd thing about him was the mask covering the right side of his devilishly handsome face. He paused a few moments longer, laying down the violin that he had been playing.

Fear suddenly began to creep over her. This was not just a voice made up by a dream or her imagination. This was a man. Suddenly her fears were swept aside as he opened his mouth allowing the song to flow from his lips to her ears.

_"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!"_

The music she had heard before magically reappeared in her mind along with his words. She found herself drawn to him once more, stepping closer to him so she was a meer foot away from him.

_"Touch me..."_

He held out his hand for her, beckoning her further into his world.

_"Trust me..."_

She gave him her hand, which he gently grasp with his gloved hand.

_"Savor each sensation!"_

He began to pull her with his hand, his voice, and his eyes, never straying from hers.

_"Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write - "_

He uses his other hand to entice her to willingly follow him farther away from her home, her life, and into his world of darkness.

_"the power of the music of the night . . ."_

Then, turning a corner, he begins to draw her towards a black stallion, standing perfectly still, awaiting its master's order. Her eyes strayed from his to look at the creature. As her eyes detach from his and reality sinks in. Her pace slows as she suddenly becoms fully aware that this was no longer a dream. She begins to struggle in the man's grasp, trying to run away, but he has a firm hold of her hand now. With a quick pull on her arm he spins her in so her back is fully pressed against his chest. With a swif move of his hand a kerchief is over her mouth and nose. As she inhales to scream a strange scent meets her nose. Suddenly the woods begin to spin adn she feels rather sleepy. Collapsing fully, the masked man caught her and cradled her to him. Walking over to the horse, that awaited him patiently, he vaults himself and the girl's limp form onto the horse, mounting himself behind her. Taking a few seconds to comfortably situate himself and Amy he swings both her legs to one side of the saddle, allowing him to protectively cradle her as her head rests comfortably against his chest. Looking down he can monitor her sleeping face. She looks so peaceful. This was the first time he had actually seen her up close. Always he had seen her from behind or from above. For days he had seen her waundering, but until tonight he had no idea who she was. Her hair was tostled by her flight from her room, lips paritally opened in peacful bliss, and long dark eyelashes contrasting with her moonlit pale skin. She was not as beautiful as Christine, but she held her own beauty.

"_you alone can make my plan take flight..."_

He smirks at the edit to his song. While running his gloved hand over her cheek.

"_help me make the music of the night!"_

With a light kick to the horse, it trotts off towards his lair.


	8. Flight through the Night

The moon light illuminated the country side as he rode away from the De Chagney manor. It was beautiful and peaceful, and he had not experienced this in a long time. Most nights when he rode from the estate it was in rage after seeing his Christine with the boy. But tonight, he was having his revenge. Of course no one would notice that the girl was missing...yet! Oh how he wished he could be there when they realize that she is no where to be found. He could imagine Raoul's face now, torn with distress and grief. He let out a chuckle, relishing in his dastardly thoughts. He then felt a tremble below him, in his arms. Looking down he could see the hairs on her arm raised by goose bumps. She was only wearing a flimsy nightgown that was in no way warm. He began cursing himself inwardly for not having her put on a robe or even shoes. She had been a good girl, following him so intently that her bodily needs had become an after thought, and it was the end of fall the evening wind sent a chill through the night.

Slowing the horse and removing his cloak, he gently wraps it around her and soon her trembling ceases. Soon they begin to approach the Opera House. It had been a long ride back to his home and with the weight of the sleeping girl constantly on his one arm he was beginning to grow quite sore, but the ride had given him a lot of time to think. Looking down at the girl she was still sleeping contently, but for how long, he couldn't tell. He had not wanted to resort to drugs, but he also did not wish to use brute force to get her to comply. He had taken her while she was off her own property to ensure there was no evidence of his presence even being at the estate. Though he had lured her off the property, she had followed his voice willingly, which surprised him. He had used very little persuasion over her mind, maybe once or twice, but only to coax her into a turn, or prevent her from tripping. Her mind though was not suade so easily, but since she thought it was a dream it was more open to suggestion. She followed out of curiosity and the thought of a dream. Finally they had arrived.

Dismounting with a quick swing of his leg he lands lightly on the ground, the girl's limp body dropping into his awaiting arms perfectly. Looking down, she stirs slightly, but does not wake. Sighing in relief he adjusts his arms under her and they begin their trek down to his home. He would unsaddle the horse later, he thinks turning and twisting in the dark.

Laying her down gently inside the boat, he looks at her to make sure she is still under the sleep endusing drugs. Picking up the oar he pushes off the shore, taking her closer and closer to his home. The sun was now probably peeling over the country side. At any time now they would notice she was missing. Smirking he could see their faces now. He was enjoying himself too much. Or was he not enjoying himself enough? Chuckling to himself he suddenly realizes that he really had nothing prepared for the girl. Where would he put her? A cage? Laughing at the thought of a huge cage holding her brought him joy for some reason. A cage would be out of the question, that would be too inhumane, but then again he had spent a majority of his life in a cage. Shaking his head he refuses to let the memories flood into his mind. A cage was out of the question.

He began to list the rooms in his underground home, his room, the dining room, the kitchen, his study, the organ......and Christine's room. Wincing at the thought of her he shakes his head. He had locked up her room to never be re-entered, and he hoped someday he would forget about that place. The Communist Dungeon! He could keep her in one of those cells. Feeding and watering her everyday, she could be like a pet to him. No, all these thoughts were too harsh for such a delicate creature as the girl that lay at his feet.

Wait, he did have a small laundry room. Being a lady she would need her privacy, and the laundry room would give her own bath as well. It had an old cot in it that he had once had by the organ, so if he had a thought in the night he might be able to spring up and put his thoughts to music. Eventually it just got in his way and he had moved it to the laundry room. Yes, the laundry room would do quite nicely. It was secluded and quaint. Suddenly the boat begins to rock as Amy rolls in her sleep onto her side. Not expecting this he teeters a bit before steadying himself.


	9. Awakening

Cold and hard, this was not the soft comfy bed she had been sleeping in. Slowly Amy opens her eyes and blinks, not quite believing where she is. Looking down she can see wood. Frightened she lets out a gasp and sits up. Where was she? The floor she is on begins to shake. Looking around quickly she gasps. She is in an immense cave and in a boat. Her thoughts begin to race. She had climbed into bed and...the rest is foggy. But how had she gotten here? Where was here? A weight now is pressing on her shoulder. Spinning around she finds a gloved hand on her shoulder. Letting out an ear piercing scream she jumps away, from her shadowy captain. Forgetting that this is in fact a boat, she causes it to teeter from side to side. In an attempt to settle the screaming girl, the man moves towards her, only causing her to scream out again and pull away once more. This time the boat not only teetered, but threw her out in its wake. The water was dark, and the way Amy was thrown in, she was not sure which was up or down.

Suddenly a hand grasps hers and pulled her to the surface. Hair blurring her vision she can not see the man, but can feel his powerful arms around her. Not knowing whether to fight or give in, she struggles momentarily until he coos into her ear, calming her. The sound reminded her of her mother, for when she was a child her mother used to cradle her as this man did now and coo into her ear, making her feel safe and warm. The feeling begins to rush into her, calming her momentarily as the man wades out of the water and onto the shore and into a dimly lit place. Her hair was still in her face, for she feared any movement at all would cause him to drop her. Who was this man? Why had she been brought here? Thoughts began to race through her mind as he set her down on something fluffy and turned to light a candle.

She had woken up so suddenly it had taken him completely by surprise. He knew she would react this way, why shouldn't she. She had no clue where she was. In his attempts to calm her, he had merely frightened her, which ended in the boat throwing her overboard. Fortunately they had been close enough to shore that Erik had jumped off the boat and waded quickly in to get her, fearing that she may drown. Finding her and grabbing her hand he had pulled her to him and carried her onto the shore. Struggling at first, she soon gave in to his calming whispers. Why did she trust him so? It puzzled him that she was not putting up a bigger fight. Hair covered her face and eyes, and she made no attempt to remove it. Perhaps she feared she would upset her captor? That was what he was after all. A thousand questions must be racing through her head.

Upon entering the laundry room he set her gently down upon the cot and turned to light a candle. She stayed put, and gently removed the hair from her eyes as the light of the candles illuminated the room. Turning to her he examined her, saying nothing to her. Frowning he scolded himself. Nothing was going as he had foreseen it. This was not the revenge he had planned. He had failed. He had past the point of no return when he began to sing to her and she heeded his call. And if that was not enough, proof of his failure sat right in front of him; cold, shivering, and scared. This poor innocent girl knew nothing of Raoul and Christine's transgressions, knew nothing of the past history held with her brother, and knew nothing of him.

Suddenly it struck him. She knew nothing of him! Not his murders or his ghosting or even what lie behind his mask. Looking into her eyes he saw her fear, but it wasn't for the fear of a murderous hideous monster, it was one of fear for her situation. He could start fresh with this girl! Live a new life through her eyes...all he needed was a good start. But how to explain the kidnapping? That certainly wasn't a good start after all. She was sitting there freezing. He curses himself again for taking her in such haste. Yet he knew her sudden reappearance then disappearance would be causing much more drama. In the morning he could go into town and buy proper clothes for her, but for now she could make due with a pair of his trousers and one of his white shirts.

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"Excuse me monsieur, but why am I here? Is this some kind of dream?" she asks timidly. Her voice was soft and flowing like the rays of the moon, yet rich and bold; even as she spoke timidly she did so with authority. At first Erik does not reply, overcome by the sensation of her voice. He begins to wonder if she has ever sung, but is cut off as she now demands a reply. "Monsieur, I demand an answer!"

"Mademoiselle, you are in no dream," He answers shortly with his back turned to her taking down a pair of his trousers and a white shirt. "Here," he orders turning and accidentally throwing the garments in her face, "Put these on."

She gasps as the clothes hit her face. He turns to see the shirt still covering her face. He smiles, but quickly erases it from his lips before she can see. Bringing her hands quickly up to the shirt she tears it from her face, pulling hairs down into her eyes as well. Letting out, what seemed to be a growl she scowls at him.

"Who do you think you are? You have some nerve kidnapping me!"

"Who said anything about kidnapping?" Erik says playing the innocent card.

"I DID..." she replies agitated, "I mean isn't that what you call it when someone is removed forcibly from their home?"

She has a fire that Erik couldn't help but like. She was nothing like his docile Christine. Christine was like a gentle dove, this girl was a wild stallion. He smirks, thinking of the challenge that she is going to be. Her spirit was one he was willing to capture; he was going to make her his pet.

"But you were not forcibly removed, you came willingly...if you will recall," Erik states simply, and truthfully. Opening her mouth she stops. How did she get here? She could not remember.

Glaring at him she orders, "Who are you?"

"The question is who are you? I am going to help you discover your true self, with my help you will be the brightest woman in all of Paris!"

"You're mad; now tell me who you are!"

"Ladies should not shout at their masters," he says smiling. He knew his words would only stoke her fire.

"What makes you think I'm a lady?" she says smartly.

"True, you don't very well look like one! More like a drowned mouse!" at this her jaw nearly hit the floor making him want to freeze the moment and paint the expression on her face. She was priceless and only feeding into his fun.

"You are something else, sir!" She exclaims.

"You have no idea," Erik replies flashing his canines at her.

Taking a deep breath she looks at him, not quite glaring, but her eyes seethe hateful fire at him. They remain silent a few moments, each waiting for the other to make a move. Their conversation had suddenly become a game of strategy.

"Master?" She says looking up and down his body, not trying to take any digression in checking him out. Erik straightens slightly. He had never really been under surveillance before and it was quite new to have someone as fierce as he. "I have no master," she replies firmly.

Erik smiles, this was going to be fun. Christine had immediately taken him in as her teacher and master, but it looked like he was going to have to work her over.

"I apologize Mademoiselle, I owe you an explanation," he says bowing slightly. He knew this would catch her off guard, for she expected him to have a haughty remark to fire back. As he bowed slightly, she was taken aback. Her arms that had been crossed across her chest defensively now dropped and she began to play with her wet nightgown.

"Please, tell me who you are!" she says, not ordering, but pleading. She was tired of the name game.

"I, mademoiselle, am a friend of your fair brother," she perks up at this and Erik notices, but continues, "I am the master of the arts, maestro of the night, and for the next few months, your tutor."

"Tutor?" she repeats.

"Yes, I am here to help you expand your knowledge beyond your wildest dreams. But if you don't stop shouting at me, I shall have to send you away at once." It was an empty threat, but he knew she would get the point. As he spoke of teaching her she lit up like a candle and he knew this idea was a good one.

"Well monsieur, it appears I am at your mercy," she says while giving him a sarcastic curtsy. Then standing she lets out a sigh and the air about her changes. "My brother found out about school didn't he?"

Confused at first his brow furrows, but he quickly hides it and with a look of sarcastic pity he nods his head. He was doing well tonight at the guess game. Guessing her desire for knowledge, and about her need of a tutor. Suddenly her hand flies up to her cheek and she rubs her cheek quickly, and then replaces her hand across her chest. What was that? Was she crying? It was there, then gone, but Erik had seen it. A tear. Whatever had happened at school it had caused her some sort of pain.

"Oh, I must be such a disgrace to him!" she says, not really to Erik, but more just thinking aloud.

They stood there a few moments in silence. Her eyes were a window into her soul and as Erik searched within her he found pain, too much pain for someone her age. He felt the need to say something to comfort her, but what?

"Your brother..." he began causing her to look up, "does not think you a disgrace..." Erik says. She perks he head up as he continues, "He wishes for me to tutor you, so your studies may increase."

She opens her mouth to talk, but he steps forward and places his gloved finger on her lips.

"Shh...no more questions tonight, you need rest for tomorrow your studies start. Those clothes I gave you; sleep in them for tonight. Get out of that soaking nightgown, and tomorrow you will have more proper clothes," he says. Taking her hand in his he bends and kisses the back of her hand gently, drawing a pleasing gasp from her, making his lips curve into a smile against her soft skin.

"Goodnight..." he says standing and looking deep into her eyes. Her face one of disbelief and awe. He was glad to know that none of his charm had left him. He turns swiftly and begins to walk out of the room, until she calls him,

"Monsieur!"

He stops and turns slowly looking into her eyes once more.

"What is your name?" she asks bashfully.

Straightening himself he says, "Erik..."

"Erik," she repeats as a smile creeps across her lips. He turns and goes to shut the door. Before it closes he hears,

"Good night, Erik." He shuts the door and with a click pulls it completely shut. As he stands on the other side of the door he smiles. It had been a good night and he couldn't wait until morning, though he knew he would not be sleeping tonight.


	10. Good Morning

Opening her eyes and rubbing the sleep from them, Amy looks up at the ceiling. Confused she finds what looks like rock, instead of her bed's white canopy. Gasping she sits up quickly, unsure of where she is. A small room, white shirts hanging everywhere with black trousers. Suddenly memories of the previous night flood through her mind.

"Erik," she says remembering the dark man who had led her here. Why had he brought her here? She couldn't quite remember. Like a gust of wind his voice filled her mind. He was going to teach her. Sighing, her shoulders slump. Raoul had found out her secret. Had he told Erik? Perhaps, but something was not right here. Why had Erik taken her in the night? Why didn't he wait until morning? How had she ended up in the boat? Her head hurt. She couldn't remember anything between going to sleep and waking in the boat. Had Erik come into her house and taken her? Something did not feel right.

Standing up, the pair of trousers droop and the open V shirt opens, revealing more of her bosom than is ladylike. She must look ridiculous, she thinks to herself. Standing and moving to the back of her room, she finds her nightgown. Frowning, she finds it still soaked. She would have to continue wearing what she had slept in. Shivering in the thin material shirt she tries to pull it over her chest more and tightens the drawstrings on the trousers until they almost fit. Still chilly, Amy moves to the bed and picks up the cape that had adorn her since in the boat. It had to be Erik's. Taking it in her hands she wraps it around herself, reveling in the warmth coming back to her. Snuggling into the cape she deeply inhales. The scent of cologne reaches her nose. It smells like the ocean breeze, making her long for the days when she and Raoul would vacation with their family by the ocean. They hadn't done that in a long time.

Suddenly she realizes just what she is exactly doing. Pulling her face out of the fabric she blushes to herself. What would Erik do if he came in and found her sniffing his cape? Still thinking of Erik she can hear movement beyond the door. If Erik had kidnapped her, she was his captive, but now to know. Erik had been kind so far, but it could all be a facade. Looking at the door she could not remember if she had heard Erik lock it. Standing she begins to move to the door slowly. This was the true test. If the door is locked, she had indeed been kidnapped, but if the door was unlocked, she would walk through the door and accept Erik as her tutor.

Moving her hand slowly to the door, she thinks about each outcome and which outcome she would rather have. Her fingers meet the cold metal of the handle. Grasping the knob lightly she closes her eyes and begins to twist. With a satisfying click the door yields to her and opens, bading her to walk through. With a sigh of relief she smiles, happy that Erik was not a cruel captor, but was he going to be a cruel master? She couldn't say, but with cautious steps she begins to journey out of her room and into Erik's dark abode.

Immediately after she steps out of her room the scent of cinnamon meets her nose. Following the smell down a small dark passage, she shields her eyes as she walks into a well lit room. At the far side there was a stove, in the middle of the room was a fully set table with two chairs, and a dark figure leaning over the stove working hard.

"Mmm, something smells good," Amy says.

Erik jumps slightly, but quickly recovers by pretending to reach for something. Turning his head only half way as to keep his mask out of view he looks at her. Her hair ruffled from sleep, his cape draped over her, and her eyes half closed, shielding themselves from the light. He was not quite sure until he actually looked at her that she was there. He hadn't heard her walk up or anything, and normally he would have heard her. Perhaps it was the fact that her feet were bare. But he had to make sure she didn't do something like that again.

"One should not lurk in doorways," he says inviting her in, in his own special way. She nods and steps through the door and into the kitchen. After looking around fully she takes a seat at the chair closest to her. There was silence as he stirred something on the stove. Finally Erik decides to break the silence.

"So how was your sleep?" He asks.

"Fine. Best sleep I've had I awhile actually," Amy admits truthfully. Erik nods his head, his back still to her; thinking to himself that he would need to adjust her to his nocturnal and short sleeping schedule. At that the speaking once again dropped. Sighing Erik scolds himself for not having more interaction with people. He wasn't sure why he couldn't just speak to her. Taking a deep breath he reminds himself that he swore he would be different with her. He had to break out of his phantom state and become more open with her. At least start a conversation. Taking the cinnamon rolls out of the oven and spreading the icing over them he takes the pan in his hand and spins around.

"I hope you like cinnamon rolls," he says putting on a smile, "I should warn you though," he says placing them in front of her and leaning on the back of his chair, "I'm not a very good cook..." Erik knew he could be a culinary master if he really wanted to, but eating and cooking were always a second thought. If his body didn't need to eat he wouldn't. Sitting down he finds her smiling immensely at him.

"Oh, cinnamon rolls are my favorite! Wow...did Raoul tell you?" Christine asks looking suspiciously at him.

He shrugs giving her the best guilty "you caught me" look he can muster. He was getting really good at guess just what this girl liked and wanted to hear. Taking a cinnamon roll from the plate she quickly brings it to her mouth but stops dead in her tracks. Erik who had been watching her every move was puzzled by this one. She next quickly lays the cinnamon roll on her place and puts her hands in her lap, eyes downcast at her lap. This was even more curious.

"What? Is my cooking that bad?" Erik asks chuckling.

"It's not proper for a lady to serve herself," she says talking into her lap, "I should have waited for you."

"Mmhmm," Erik says almost scoffing at the ridiculousness of such a rule. He felt as if Amy had read to him from a book or laws for ladies. "Is this how you have been taught?" Erik asks. Amy shakes her head. In Erik's mind it was ridiculous! If she is hungry she should eat, even if it was _his _cooking. "Amy," he says commanding her gaze. She looks up and him, "If you're hungry, EAT!"

She looks at him with uncertainty, "But aren't you having one?"

Erik shakes his head, and replies, "No, I don't eat often." Amy looks at him puzzled then nods her head.

"Wait," she says confused, "Did you say Amy?"

"Yes, did I address you wrongly?" he inquires confused.

"No...no it's just," Amy begins then trails off, "I just don't remember giving you my name, that's all. But I assume...Raoul," she says as she concludes happily that it must be that. Erik simply nods and Amy mimics him satisfied. Erik nods towards her untouched plate and she gasps then apologizes, picking up the warm roll in her fingers. As she moves the roll towards her mouth she notices that Erik is watching her every move with a look of anticipation. She sinks her teeth into the moist roll and savors the flavors rushing into her mouth. Letting her eyes fall closed she licks her lips then chews the bite; she moans in pleasure.

"Mmmm, this is heavenly," Amy says through her bite. Erik smiles happily as he watches the pleasure play across her face.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," Erik says.

Amy opens her eyes and smiles.

"Thank you," she says swallowing.

"For what?" Erik asks almost involuntarily.

"Well...for agreeing to tutor me, under these circumstances...but did Raoul tell you about my other school?" Amy asks.

"No, I wouldn't let your brother disclose any personal information about you. I want to get to know you myself, "Erik says. Amy looks at him happily and surprised. Erik thinks of his words and realizes half of him actually meant what he said. He did want to know her. There was silence in the room again as Amy finished her cinnamon roll.

"You may have a second," Erik says.

"Are you sure you won't have one?" Amy asks picking up one and offering it to him. He shakes his head, lightly refusing. "Are you sure?" Amy says playfully, "They're really good!" Erik looks at her playful smile and gives her one of his own, but still refuses.

"Oooookay, but they're reeeeaaally good!" Amy says taking another bite. Erik chuckles and continues watching her.

"May I ask you a question?" Amy asks putting down the roll, looking at him quite seriously.

Erik stiffens. 'she's going to ask about the mask,' he thinks to himself. She was bound to ask, they all ask. How couldn't she ask? It was a very odd thing he knew, but he still didn't like people to ask. Bracing himself she continues with her question.


	11. So Many Questions, Enough Patience?

**I appologize for my absense, this has been one hecktic summer. I don't own anyone except for Amy mwahahaha!**

* * *

"Why...do you keep your house so cold?"

Erik laughs inspite of himself, relieved she had not asked about the mask.

"I apologize," Erik says realizing the sudden outburst of laughter has startled Amy, "I guess I just prefer it to be cold. Plus my home is rather hard to heat. I also apologize for your attire. Tomorrow I shall go and get you proper clothing."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, I didn't want you to wake up to an empty house!" Erik says concern in his voice.

"Thank you," Amy says, grateful that she hadn't wakened up alone. She really would have felt like a captive then. "Um..." Amy begins again will sipping on the glass of water lying before her.

"Yes?" Erik asks.

"Well...would it be so prying if I asked you some more questions," Amy asks.

Erik puts his hand to his mouth, elbow on the table. He did not like questions, because they would inevitably lead to the ones he dreaded. About his past and his face. Thinking very quickly he begins to wonder if she knew of him. He hadn't heard everything that Raoul and Christine had said to her that night, but what if they had spoke of him? He would have to be sparse with information so that she would not recognize him. Christine would have obviously told her that he was a musician, so that was something he would need to keep a secret. He would have to hide the location of the home and that it was below the Opera House, but what else had she revealed about him? Amy clears her throat, drawing his attention from his thoughts back to look into her eyes.

"Well?"

"You may ask your questions," Erik allows.

"Okay," Amy says beginning to lay all the questions in her mind before him. "How did I get here?"

"My horse, we rode from your home to here. You fell asleep on the ride," Erik says.

"But I mean, how did I get out of the house! And why did you take me at night? Why didn't you wait until morning?" Amy asks flustered.

Erik decides to skip the first question and go straight into why he took her at night. Quickly thinking he thinks back to their earlier conversations. "Your brother, "He begins, "requested your night removal, so people wouldn't ask questions and wish to know your where abouts. This way you can learn in peace."

Amy nods and goes to ask another question, but Erik, reading her mind continues. "He was going to tell you, but he didn't want to reveal that much about me. It's kind of like starting a new life." As he spoke, her eyes never looked away from his. She had a look of wonderment in her eyes that made Erik think about the exact ways he could teach her, but first thing she would need to learn the rules of his home, and the consequences if she were to disobey him.

"Now," Erik says placing his hands on the table, "I think you deserve a tour." Standing he offers her his hand. Smiling up at him she takes the outstretched hand. He pulls her to her feet, the cape falling to the chair. They stood there for a moment, until Erik realizes that he is still holding her hand. Gently releasing her hand he lets it fall and begins to lead her from the room and into the darkened hallway.

"This," he says gesturing to the room she had come out of, "is your room." She nods her head as he continues walking. After they pass her room the halls opens up into a large lit room. At the far wall was an immense fire place with a fire burning lowly in it. In front of the fire lay an oriental looking rug. On the mantle of the ornate fire place was a clock and painted vases. A red, high backed, velvet chair sat to the side of the fire with another close by. Beside the chair was a new looking phonograph. The room looked quite expensive, like a room in Amy's own home. Erik looked at the chairs closely together. He had never had much use for the second, except to up his feet up as he read, but that was it. Now the chair would actually get used by another person.

"This is, I guess what you would call a living room, or the sitting room," Erik says displaying the room. Amy's eyes scower the room, trying to etch each detail into her mind. Erik watches her eyes wander. When he feels she's had enough of this room he clears his throat, pulling her wandering eyes back to him.

"Moving on," he says leading her out of the room. He was now going to show her the front of his home. The place that held the best and worst memories, and also held his organ. How could he explain all those papers with scores of music? He would come up with something; he had come up with things for everything else.

As they walk out into the front room, the light reflecting off the pool causes the two to wince. Amy looks around in awe. It was beautiful. Half of the room was simply a lake. There were scores of candelabras spread through out the room. None lit, but Amy could only imagine the splendor of the scene if they were lit. Everything was gold. The room was in complete dissarray and looked as if an earthquake went through it. There were random tapestries covering the damp rock walls around the room, more oriental rugs sporadically covering the cold stone floor, busts were also erratically places around the room, baring similar masks to the one Erik wore; the room was in a phrase "beautiful chaos". There seemed to be no order in the large room, but that was what gave it its beauty. But nothing compared to the large pipe organ placed near the back wall. It was gorgeous. Papers spread over the top and a small amount of dust collected on it. As they moved Amy noted that one of the walls seemed to be sealed.

"What's in there?" Amy asks placing a hand on the wall.

"Bad memories," Erik says lowly. Amy doesn't understand, but doesn't press him further. Walking along they pass the organ.

"Do you play?" Amy asks.

"A little," Erik says smiling coyly and playing a finger on one of the ivory keys, caressing it with tenderness and love.

"This is the front room," Erik says, "Any doors that are shut, keep shut!" These last words come out as orders, enticing Amy's curiosity. "Over there," Erik says pointing across the tiny lake, "is the "front door", it is never to be open without my say so." Now there were rules. Amy had expected them, but Erik's attitude had changed drastically. He had now become a strict tutor, which Amy had, once again, expected, but was not pleased by it. "Now over here," he says moving away from the organ, bading her to follow.

"This is the study," he says displaying many shelves with a vast amount of leather bound books. "Over here we shall study and-" but Erik is cut off as Amy lets out a yelp of pain. Turning quickly he finds Amy clutching her foot, a look of pain spread cross her face. Looking at the ground he realizes there are shards of glass everywhere. Mirror pieces. He hadn't cleaned them up, and didn't even notice them as he walked; of course he was wearing boots. Quickly moving over to her he removes her hand from her foot and examines it. There is bleeding, and a few small fragments embedded in her foot, which he could easily take care of. Moving to pick her up and carry her across the glass, Amy flinches and pulls away.

"I can do it myself," Amy says propping herself against a nearby table. Taking her foot in her hand she tries to remove a shard, but only succeeds in driving it deeper, drawing a hiss of pain from her lips. Erik could not watch any longer and by this point had grown angry at her response. Walking quickly over to her, he grabs her wrist tightly and holds it at eye level, away from her foot.

"I would let me help you, or risk permanent damage!" Erik says gravely still holding her arm tightly. She could not tell whether he meant permanent damage to her foot or the wrist he was clutching. Not struggling and letting the tension go out of her body, she gave in and let him pick her up. Erik swiftly releases her wrist and moves to pick her up. Memories of last night flood into Amy's mind as the feeling of his body so close to hers makes her slightly dizzy. Erik jumps slightly; avoiding stepping on a prop lying on the ground causes Amy to be drawn back to reality. As he carried her into the small alcove of the library she could now feel his body tense with anger.

She had wanted to argue fiercely when he had held her wrist, but recalling Erik's threat from last night she kept silent. She would have to change if she wanted to stay here.

The fire which Erik had first admired within her was now coming into his question. She and he were both hot tempered; he could tell and now questioned the future. What other arguments would they have? And could Erik control his anger?


	12. Her Past vs His

As he brought her into the alcoving library, Amy's jaw drops. The room was beautiful to her. He set her down on a nearby chair and then left the room. Gazing around she longed to reach out and removed a book from one of the shelves and start reading, but she wouldn't until she had Erik's permission.

Upon Erik's re-entry the air in the room seemed to grow stuffy. Both occupants kept silent, neither knowing what to say. Erik kept his back to her, sorting out his medical supplies. "She's afraid of me now..." Erik thinks to himself angrily. The last thing he had wanted was for her to be scared of him.

"Erik," he hears Amy say timidly. Turning he finds her playing with the tie to the very low cut shirt. Her eyes are downcast to her fingers as she pauses. Then looking up into his eyes she takes a deep breath and the first step towards being a subordinate student. "I'm sorry," she says genuinely, "I'm just...not used to people actually...genuinely being nice to me, and offering to help me." Her apology was genuine, she meant every word, and she hoped Erik could see that and forgive her rudeness.

"Appology accepted," he says almost hesitantly as he moves over to bandage her wound. As he starts wrapping, he adds, "And its not 'I'm sorry', sorry is an adjective; it is proper to say, 'I apologize'." He looks up to her eyes as he says his last words. She smiles at him as he kneels in front of her.

"Yes, sir," she says with an inflection of laughter in her voice. With his face out of her view he lets his lips curve into a smile. The feeling of his lips in a smile was an odd feeling. He had not smiled this much since...Her.

"Ouch!" Amy cries as Erik binds her foot a little too tightly.

"Sorry," Erik says.

"It's alright," Amy says as he finishes. He stands and places the remaining bandage in his kit. He scolds himself, allowing his anger towards Christine to blind him, and in turn, hurt Amy. Shutting the lid of the kit he begins to speak again,

"Now then, I've set up your curriculum; science, such as biology and chemistry. Then some math, English, history..."

"Wait," Amy says interrupting him.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, but I mean...you're actually going to teach me?"

"Yes. Why what did your old school do?" He asks puzzled by her question.

"It was a typical girl school. I was to learn to cook, clean, sew, be an obedient wife and future mother," she says annoyed. As she continues she seems lost in memories of her school, "But I was too ambitious and well...not very well liked." She stops looking startled that she had actually spoken these words aloud. She had talked to no one about school yet, and she was sharing it with this man, so she decided to go no further.

"Go on," Erik insists interested in her story.

"No, it's a long, embarrassing story..." Amy says twirling her hair nervously.

"We have time," Erik assures her. "I'm not here to judge," he reassures her, trying to convince her to open up to him. She looks up into his eyes, hers filled with sorrow and pain and his urging her onward.

"I...I um..." she stutters, unable to bring the words out of her lips. She had never told anyone this story before, and now she was revealing it to Erik. What if he should laugh? Looking back into his eyes she could tell he would not laugh at her. "I fell in love with a man who I gave my heart to," she says choking out the words, "and he threw it away." Tears rushed to her eyes, threatening to spill over. Erik was taken aback by this; angered by it. "He took my money...and my reputation!" she burst out angrily, a tear escaping down her cheek. "He spread rumors that I was a whore and would sleep with any man!" Her words of sorrow mixed with a rage and as she said the words it caused Erik's blood to boil, but then suddenly she stops and chuckles dryly, "As you can guess that didn't please the school...they couldn't have such a disgrace," her face lost the sarcastic smile, "they cast me out. I was alone." Her words hit in as none other had, but he was in for an even bigger surprise. "I managed to get an apartment in a rather unsavory part of London, where the prostitutes live, giving anyone who knew where I was questions about the rumors, even those who I thought were my friends questioned me. I couldn't tell my family so I decided to get a job in a...a...oh my brother would kill me!" She burst out holding her head in her hands. He expected her to tell him that she became a prostitute, being paid for shameful acts of pleasure, but her muffled answer through her hands shocked him; knocking the breath from him. "I got a job in a circus," comes her muffled reply. Erik stiffens as memories flood forth from the forbidden place in his mind. "Since I like fire," she says disgustingly, "they made me twirl fire, and do "magic". One show I dropped the flaming baton on...myself...permanently scarring me." At this point she fell silent, ashamed to go on, ashamed to even look up and meet Erik's eyes, but she had only three words left. "They fired me," she said eyes downcast into her lap.

Erik looks at her, tears filling his eyes. Never had he imagined that they would share something so similar; besides their temper and will. Rejected by lovers, scorned by society, and physically distorted. Hers could never be as bad as his thought; she could evidently hide hers because he had not seen a flaw on her body.

Suddenly it occurred to him, not once had she questioned his mask. Never had she made a move to remove it. She didn't even stare. What was her angle? Well if she didn't want to ask, Erik wouldn't pry. It was better not to be asked anyways. His opinion of her had completely changed. He had thought of her at first, by the way she made demands, was a snobby little brat, who was used to being pampered and getting her way. But that was not the case at all.

There was silence; gut-wrenching silence. Erik didn't know what to say. Amy didn't know what Erik was thinking. Each not knowing what the other was feeling. Erik desperately wanted to tell her she was not a disgrace to her family and that she shouldn't be so ashamed of herself. But none of the words would come. His lips would not betray his thoughts of compassion; it would be treasonous and uncharacteristic.

"So...um..." Erik mumbles suddenly. Amy looks up to him as he continues, "You had no formal teaching?"

"If you need your laundry and the cooking done, I'm your girl! Although I hate that stuff..." Amy says, "I just felt so useless, like my destiny was set before me and I had no say. Do you know what I mean? Of course not, you're a man, you probably went to some esteemed teaching school or something, actually got to learn," Erik leaned up against wall and listened to her rant with a chuckle ready to escape, "I did actually decide I wanted to do something other than be a mother and a wife, I don't even know if I want to be a mother or a wife! I mean why is it not up to me! They just assume I want to! What if I don't huh! I mean they try and brain wash you, that's why they didn't like me. But, oh, yeah I did decide I wanted to actually do something," Amy finishes nearly out of breath.

"And that would be?" Erik asks smiling widely.

"Well," Amy says more slowly, "You see the school that I went to was close to this other school, for boys. I found that out one day when we were supposed to be eating lunch, I took a walk. I heard one of the teachers reading The Odyssey. I fell in love. I knew then I wanted to learn and be a writer. I sat outside of classes listening to the teacher read and explain the stories. But then the head mistress found out and well, punished me. But I would still like to be a writer...with your help..." she requests finishing.

"You don't know how to write?" Erik asks confused.

"No, I do! But I mean the grammatical and technical areas are still a little confusing. I need your help with that stuff, please," she says hopeful.

"I can, and will teach you all you need to know," Erik says nodding his head, "And, my library is at your disposal." He says opening his arms displaying the library. Amy smiles widely as she gazes in wonderment.

"Thank you," she says excitedly.

"Here," Erik says picking out a book from the shelves,"I recommend this book very strongly." Placing the leather back book gently into her hands she looks upon it reverntly. She runs her fingers over the leather cover, caressing it gently.

"Thank you," she says again smiling.

"You're welcome," Erik says watching her gaze at the book in her hands in wonderment. He stood there in silence watching her for a few moments longer, until he decided to stop staring and begin talking once more. Clearing his throat he pulls her attention from the book back to himself. She blushes and apologizes then sits, awaiting his next instructions.

"Now then, lets begin our studies shall we?" He asks moving out of the room and towards his desk with papers littered everywhere on it.

"Oh?" Amy says confused standing, wobbling a bit, and then moving to the edge of the door.

"Yes," Erik says busily moving papers off the desk and relocating them, "is that a problem?"

"No," she pauses, "I just thought we could get to know one another better."

He now turns to look at Amy in the entrance. The V part of the shirt on her opened, exposing the tanned skin of her chest. Taking in a sharp breath he quickly turns his head so he doesn't stare. Lewd thoughts rush through his mind. At this moment he just wanted to turn, walk over to her and...NO! He would not let himself give into these primal thoughts of lust. Oh how he wanted to know her body more; to know every inch. If he does not silence these arousing thoughts, something bad would happen.

He turns around again to look at her square in the eyes this time. Every part of him screams for his eyes to lower, but it takes all of his will power to keep eye contact with her. "There...is not much to know," he says his voice straining.

"That's what you say," Amy says prying.

"Yes, and as your master and tutor you shall not question me," He says demanding her prying to cease as he raises his voice.

Her mouth falls open, stunned by the sudden outburst. He immediately regrets his outburst, and yet he doesn't. They had been getting along so well she thought it would be okay to ask him a question like this. Apparently she was wrong. Whatever kind of past Erik had, he wasn't willing to share it with Amy. She was now slightly embarrassed that she had shared her intimate story with almost a complete stranger. They stood there in silence. She could still hear his words in her mind. Master; it made her feel so inferior. A draft hits her open chest and she almost unconsciously brings her hands to her chest, closing the clothes cut into the V.

Erik gives a sigh of relief that her chest was out of view, but her gaze was far from him. What should he do? Apologize again? Was this what their days together were going to be? Him yell and then him apologize? He sighs; this was going to be a long day. He turn around and grabs a paper he had written on earlier.

"We shall study two hours after waking, eating and getting ready, if that is enough time for you to prepare in the morning," He asks looking at her. She nods, still not meeting his eyes. His lips purse in dismay, but he continues, "Twelve hour days mean we shall study from eight-thirty until noon; take a break so you may brunch, then twelve-thirty to four, i have things to attend to outside, so from four to six i shall be gone. The rest of the night is yours. But bed shall be strictly at eleven, on the dot."

Amy smiles slightly at the last comment. She felt like a child again, and it oddly amused her. The way Erik was going to be strict made Amy smiles wider.

"Now this schedule is adaptable to change, i may have other errands to run at other times, but we shall always leave a large portion of the day to dedicate them to your studies," Erik says turning once more to the desk. "So, what shall we do first?" He inquires clasping his hands together as he turns around.

Amy pauses, unsure whether to actually answer. Last time she told him what she wanted to do it turned out badly. "What ever you wish to do Monsieur," she says lowly. Erik is puzzled at the formal address. It was because he yelled at her, demanded her obey him, now she was being obedient. That was what he wanted...right?

"I wish you would tell me what you want to do," Erik says seriously.

"Well..." Amy says thinking, "could I do some writing?"

Erik smiles, "Certainly!" and turns to the table. He was interested in seeing her writing skills. Frowning, he soon realizes that there are no blank pieces of paper. Every sheet has staves and measure full of notes on them. Reluctantly he picks up the messy pile of papers.

"Here, you may use these..." he says handing her several rustled pieces of paper with ink blots and scattered notes on the pages. She takes them and examines them questioningly.

"Yes may use the back...it's blank," he says.

"Oh," she says slightly disappointed, "thank you."

He suddenly becomes embarrassed and angry with himself that he had not stocked his house properly. He turns his back, laying his hands on his desk.

"No Erik seriously," Amy says walking forward and gently laying her hand on his. He looks to her hand laying on his. "Thank you." The small gesture of gratitude and kindness stuns him. No one, not his mother, or Christine had ever done something like this for him. He pulls his hand away and walks father away from her. Amy watches him confused, Erik walks away scared.

This was too much for him. Her kindness, her body, he simply couldn't handle all of this. He had to leave, get out of the house.

"So um," Erik begins, "There is your paper, here is a pen," he practically throws it in her hand, "You write for awhile, and i will return shortly." And with that he turns and begins to put on his cloak.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Amy says stunned by the suddenness of his actions.

"Yes," he says adjusting his cape and puts on his gloves.

"Well this is sudden," Amy says smiling.

"Yes, well," Erik says stuttering, "I forgot that i always go out at this time. Plus if must look for you some items to make your stay more comfortable."

"Yes, well, okay then," Amy says looking down at the papers in her hands. Her brow furrows as she examines the musical notes all over the many pages. Deciding it is best left unquestioned she watches him grab the pole for the boat and move towards it.

"When will you be back," she asks moving towards the water's edge.

"Whenever i feel like it," he says getting into the boat and adjusting himself. Suddenly he realizes he has been avoiding her eyes. Looking up he finds her staring at him, concern in her eyes. He returns her stare with one of awe. Her eyes were two mosaics reflecting the light of the water back into his eyes. She smiles suddenly, blushing. He also returns her smile; he can't figure out why, but smiles anyways. Erik averts his eyes and begins to row away. As he approaches the gates they click and begin to raise and the stone wall in front of the gate parts. He can hear Amy gasp and turns to find her staring at the moving wall.

He turns around and points to her, "Now don't leave the house!" he says sternly, but smiles. She returns his smile and nods.

"I won't. I don't even know where here is!" she shouts as he disappears behind the shutting doors. Was he right to leave her alone in his house so soon? He would inevitably find out.


	13. Home Alone

He was gone. Amy stands there momentarily and stares at the spot where she had last seen him. Finally, she sighs and turns to examine the cave once more. It was such a mess. Yet it was beautiful. Except for the dust and random garbage littered across the room.

Amy sighs, "So this is my home now." She smiles. It was much nicer than her past homes, well except for her actual home at the mansion. Recently that just hadn't felt like home. She had felt awkward at the mansion and was not used to the pampering of an older brother and tens of servants at your command.

Smiling mischievously, she decides to explore on her own. Limping she avoids the glass pile and makes her way over to the organ. Music was everywhere, and yet Erik claimed he only played a little. There was a pen lying on a half written staff on a paper lying left untouched on top of the organ. Something was very suspicious about Erik, but Amy couldn't quite place her finger on what it was about him. Moving back into the back part of the room she pauses by the sealed room Erik had described so briefly. Pushing on the wall, it would not give. Giving up Amy decides it is best left untouched. If Erik came home and that door was open, he would most likely be greatly angered.

Erik. The man was a puzzle. Was he kind or strict? Was he gentle or violent? Clasping her head as she walks she feels a headache coming on. So many questions still unanswered.

Walking back into the living room, she imagines the fireplace alight by an evening fire, but why wait until evening. The house was freezing. There would be no harm in lighting a fire, right?

Taking a few logs from the bin behind one of the chairs, she soon has a roaring fire going. Smiling she sits down in one of the large resting chairs. Pondering she wonders what other rooms there were in the house. Erik had to have a room, but he had not told her where his was. Walking back towards the kitchen she finds the breakfast dishes laying on the table. Sighing she decides immediately to assume the role of housekeeper. The house looked like it had never had the touch of a woman, let alone someone willing to give the house a good cleaning. Well now that she was the woman of the house and would have to be the one to do the cleaning.

Placing the remaining cinnamon rolls in an empty container she then begins to wash the dishes. Next, she neatly stacks them in an empty cupboard. Wiping her brow, she looks around at the clean kitchen. What next? Walking down the hall, she decides to go back to her room. Entering the first thing she sees is Erik's abandoned cape on the bed. She picks it up and neatly lays it on the small stand by the door, deciding to hang it up when she leaves the room. Turning she sighs at the amount of work, she will have to do to make this room into a comfortable living space. First, she goes about touching each one of the clothes hanging on the lines; finding which ones are still wet and which ones are dry. The dry ones are folded and placed neatly on her newly made bed and the wet ones remain on the line, her nightgown inevitably remains dripping from the line.

Moving back further into her cave of a room, she finds a large pool at the back. Probably where Erik does his laundry, she thinks to herself. Looking closely in the dark she finds steam radiating from the top of the water. Puzzled she bends down and dips her finger in. "It's warm," she says aloud to no one in particular. "How can this be?" She thinks puzzled. A hot spring in the middle of Paris was quite unusual, almost impossible; right? Maybe this served as a bath; she thinks no remembering seeing a bathroom. Well if he did not use it as one, she most certainly could. It was in her room after all. Looking around at random bins, she finds soap and a bed sheet. Taking the bed sheet and stringing it up on a nearby clothesline, she creates a shower curtain. Smiling she can't wait to take a shower, but that would have to come later.


	14. Hello Old Friends

"What am I going to do?" Erik whispers to himself as he scales the passages of his opera house. The sounds of the chorus and ballerina feet echo through the empty house as the cast practices. The crewmembers move around, completely unaware of his lurking presence. The production was coming along nicely Erik thinks satisfied to himself. Giry was doing a good job of pulling the opera house back together. The "new" manages, Andre and Firman, had quit and been replaced by a mysterious new man who had paid well to restore the opera house.

Yes, he had finally made the Opera Populaire his. He had never announced himself, or showed his face, but went to each practice and gave money to Giry to pay for what was needed. Since Erik could not show himself publicly, he had made Madame Giry the acting manager. Giry was just the person the opera needed to put it back together again, strict and levelheaded. They would be ready for their first show since the fire and Erik was a bit nervous.

However, that was not all he was nervous about. Living in a house with a woman after years of little to no contact with women was quickly becoming a challenge. His nerves were shot for the day, or so he thought. Was it wise for him to leave her alone in the house so soon? Perhaps by being alone in the house it might give her a chance to explore and get to know the house, so she might feel more comfortable. Nevertheless, by exploring she may find something he didn't want her to find. Thank goodness, his bedroom door locked. To come home to find a woman in his room...he would not even allow himself to think of it. He had pressing matters to attend to.

Exiting the opera house, he winces as the mid day sun meets his eyes. He was not accustomed to being out this early in the day. In fact, he wasn't used to being out of the Opera house at all, well except to spy on Christine. Pausing at the exit, he wonders if perhaps it is a wise idea to leave. He could always send Giry out to get the things he needed for Amy. The only problem was the questions that would follow when he asked for a larger grocery list or the woman's clothes he needed to get. Then after the questions, she would tell him how dangerous a game he was playing with the girl and urge him to let her go, but it was not as if she was his hostage...in a sense. She was staying with him willingly, because she thinks her brother has told him to keep her there, and they have only been together one day. Erik makes up his mind to keep Giry out of this, the less she knows the safer she is. He had already caused her too much grief over the years.

Taking the dark alleys, he makes his way through Paris to a clothing store where he has made purchases before. It was a small store run by a family that didn't receive many customers. He was a favorite in the store because of his frequent trips and large purchases. Sometimes the wife of the owner would tell Erik that he was the only reason they were still in business. As he swiftly enters the shop, the bell at the top of the door rings, signifying his entry.

"Ah, Monsieur, welcome! Welcome!" the small old man shouts happily to Erik and runs out from behind his counter. "It has been ages Monsieur Erik, "the man says, eyes lighting up. Erik removes his hat and smiles at the short man before him.

"It has been too long Pierre," Erik says clasping Pierre's hand. Pierre was the only one besides Giry who Erik felt he could trust. Pierre was the closest thing to a father Erik ever had.

"How are you?" Pierre asks.

"Better, much better Pierre..."

"Good, the wife and I have been worried about you,"

"I thank you for your concern," Erik says honestly.

"So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit," Pierre asks smiling over his bifocals.

"Well I need to buy some clothes..." Erik says browsing around the store.

"Oh?" Pierre says watching Erik, "What type of clothes?"

"Well..." Erik says stopping in front of a lady's dress hanging on the rack in front of Erik. Erik pauses examining the lavender lacy dress in front of him. It was interesting; dressy but still casual for housework. Is this something Amy would enjoy? Closing his eyes momentarily he tries to picture her in the outfit. He is pulled from his mental picture by Pierre, who has made his way over to Erik's side and is sighing.

"Ah, yes," Pierre says looking up at Erik. Erik opens his eyes and meets Pierre's curiously. "Erik my boy," Pierre says clasping Erik's arm happily and shaking slightly, "Who is this girl? "

Erik looks at him startled and begins to question his hearing. How could Pierre have guessed? The old man was more perceptive than Erik had thought. "A new love interest? A potential Madame Erik?" Pierre continues happily.

"No...NO! Nothing like that. She is my new student," Erik says honestly. Pierre pretends to be serious nodding.

"I see," he crosses his arms, "So you would like to purchase her some clothes?"

"Yes, she came with no essentials of her own," Erik says, "Where do you begin buying a woman clothes?" He looks at Pierre utterly puzzled. Pierre smiles.

"Well, do you have her measurements?" Pierre asks. Erik looks slightly puzzled. "You know her measurements..." Pierre says, "Like the ones we take on you when you buy clothes."

"Oh, well no," Erik says ashamed he hadn't thought of that before, "How would you get her measurements?"

"Neck, Bust, waist, arms, legs," Pierre instructs. Erik pauses and Pierre explains further, "Around her neck, chest and so forth."

"I know Pierre, thank you," Erik says smiling. Pierre studies Erik as Erik ponders over dresses.

"Perhaps i should get my wife," Pierre suggests and turns to call for his wife.

"No, I don't think..." but Erik is cut off as Pierre calls for his wife. Pierre turns and flashes Erik a smile as fumbling is heard in the background.

"What is it Pierre?" she shouts seemingly preoccupied in the back room.

"Erik is here!" Pierre calls back.

"Erik?" she shouts in surprise and joy. Quickly a small woman rushes from the back room into the front room. "Erik!" she exclaims at the sight of him, "It's been so long! Why look at you," she says looking over Erik. Her graying white curls fall messily around her hair as if she has been hard at work. Erik smiles as she walks forward and takes his hard-callused hands in her soft aging ones. "You look skinnier," She says disappointed, "Do you want something to eat?"

Erik smiles at the offer. She was always trying to fatten him up. "No, I'm fine thank you Emma," He says nearly laughing.

"Well let me give you some sugar," she says smiling standing on her toes and kissing his unmasked cheek. Erik quickly pulls her off her feet and into a hug as she squeals happily. He gently squeezes her, remembering her fragility, then places her back on the ground.

Emma shakes her head, "If I was only forty years younger." Erik can imagine that when Emma was in her prime she was quite a beautiful young woman, and even as her face has wrinkled and grey hairs dominate her head she has retained a lot of her beauty.

"Emma," Pierre says drawing Emma's attention back to him, "Erik has a new love in his life."

"Pierre," Erik scolds rolling his eyes. Emma's face lights up as a child's would at Christmas. Erik braces himself for Emma's joy and barrage of questions.

"Oh ERIK!" Emma shouts and lunges at him hugging him once more. "Who is she?"

"Emma," Erik says impatiently.

"When can we meet her?"

"Emma."

"Where did you meet her?"

"Emma."

"When is the wedding?"

"EMMA!" Erik's shout stopping her instantly. She looks shocked at first but says,

"Geez Erik, you don't have to shout."

"Emma," Erik says in a calm and controlled voice, "She is not my fiancé...or anything like that. She is my new student, and I've come here to pick her out some clothes."

"Oh," Emma winks at Pierre, "I see." The elderly couple looks at Erik mischievously and Emma moves around to the dress rack, shuffling the dresses and examining each one. "What are her sizes?"

"He doesn't know yet," Pierre, answers for Erik.

"Well then we'll start with the style, what type of girl is she?" Emma asks. Eriks looks puzzled by the questions, so Emma continues, "Will she mostly be doing your house work, or running errands, or going to Operas?" on the last question Emma winks wickedly at Erik.

Erik smiles back and answers, "We will need some formal clothes, but not yet...but she is simply studying at my house. Perhaps something casual, but something that can keep her warm," Erik finishes remembering her comment about the chilliness of his house.

"Okay, but any idea on the fanciness? Is she into high collars, low collars, frills, layers?" Emma asks getting slightly frustrated by Erik's ignorance. This time Erik merely shrugs. "Well how about color? What is her favorite color?"

"Emma, I only met the girl a few days ago," Erik lies, "I know nothing about her."

"Well perhaps you should bring her to pick out her own clothes," Emma says giving up with her questions.

"No," Erik hastily responds.

"Why not?" Emma asks, "We'd be happy to meet her!"

Erik sees he has made a slight mistake, perhaps he would simply bring Amy here...NO NO! What was he thinking! If she were to be seen by someone close to Raoul his whole plan would be ruined. He would simply have to take her measurements when he got back to the house, or simply buy a dress that MIGHT fit her.

"Well you see, she is very shy," Erik explains,"I will suggest coming here to her, but don't get your hopes up Emma."

"Maybe I'll just have to send home a batch of my home made cookies to change her mind," Emma says smiling.

"You do that Emma, I'll help Erik with the rest of his needs," Pierre says shooing Emma away. She hurries off to collect a can of cookies for Erik. "I'm sorry Erik, she gets worked up when you come," Pierre says scratching his head.

"It's quite alright Pierre," Erik says once again admiring a lavender colored dress hanging in front of him.

"What does she look like?" Pierre asks.

"Who?" Erik asks confused.

"This girl, what is her name?" Pierre continues.

Now this was really a bad idea. First, they want to meet her, but now they want to know about her. Erik pauses, debating on whether to lie, or simply not answer; say the information was to be kept private. But then again who were Emma and Pierre going to tell? They lived alone, had no children; the status of having friends was unknown to Erik, but what he did know was that they kept to themselves. It was for no particular reason really, they were nice people, but they liked their peace and quiet. Erik knew he could trust Pierre.

"Her name is Amy," he says.

"Oh, a beautiful name, for a beautiful girl?"

"Yes, she is," Erik, answers honestly.

"Amy, is it short for something?" Pierre asks.

"I'm not sure," Erik, says thinking to himself. He had honestly never considered that 'Amy' was short for something.

"Perhaps Amelia..." Pierre suggests.

"Possibly," Erik says not taking his eyes off the dress.

"What does she look like?" Pierre continues.

"She has long dark brown hair, with a slight tint of red if you look at it just right; perfectly straight. Her eyes are a mosaic of greens and blues with long dark lashes covering them. Her lips; a dark pink, but not red contrast against her tan colored skin."

"She sounds very attractive," Pierre, says smiling at Erik. Erik nods now looking at Pierre. "What is her shape?" Pierre asks.

"You and Emma use too many semester's terms," Erik, says amusingly annoyed.

Pierre shrugs,"I can't help it."

Erik thinks, his pants and shirt were loose on her body not giving it a distinct shape. But her nightgown was another story. When she had burst through the foliage of the forest as Erik called to her and he turned around to get his first up close glance at her, he could remember her shape distinctly.

"Kind of like an hour glass," Erik says gesturing with his hands the shape. Amy was nothing like Christine. With no corset to shape Christine, she would have simply looked like a stick...a very attractive stick, but a stick nonetheless. Amy had a more defined chest and hips; no corset needed.

"Ah!" Pierre says knowing exactly what Erik means.

"Here we are!" Emma calls out carrying several cans. "Now these are for the two of you, i don't want you to starve Erik!" Emma says handing him the cans. "And please don't be a stranger, we've missed you," Emma adds.

"I won't, in fact you should be seeing me tomorrow morning," Erik says,"I will have the measurements then."

"Oh good," Emma says clasping her hands together. Pierre moves over beside Emma and wraps his arm around her, pulling her close. Erik admired the old couple, still in love after all those years of toil and trouble.

He begins to walk out of the store as Emma and Pierre shout their good-byes to him and starts his trek through the dark and dismal alleys of Paris.


	15. A Lady's Touch

Hanging up the cloak Erik had let her wear the previous night she finds herself once again in the large front room. There was so much work this room needed, and not a minute to spare. First, she would start at the far end of the room, where the library was. At the desk near the library, entrance was piles of papers, some crumbled and some not. There was also a pile of what looked like burnt wood and clay. Moving closer she examines the rubble. Reaching out her hand, she picks up what looks like a clay statue of a woman. The figure was half charred but was definitely the shape of a woman. Picking up another clay finger, she found that it was a man. There were others, all dressed in some assortment of brown colors. What would Erik have something like this in his house? She would ask him later, for now she contented herself with throwing away the charred remains for paper and dusting off many things. Slowly and without really thinking about it she begins to hum. Her voice reverberates off the small rooms in the cave and echo down the corridors.

She is about to go back to the library when she sees the glassy mess. "You," she says to the pile of reflective rubble,"You need picked up before anyone else gets hurt." And with that she retrieves her broom and a pan and stoops down to begin cleaning up the rubble. "Where on Earth did this glass come from?" Amy asks herself aloud. Looking around she finds nothing that appears broken, except a velvet curtain covering the rock wall behind it. Shrugging she continues sweeping the particles into the pan; all the while humming a mysterious tune.

* * *

Closing a heavy iron door behind him Erik walks closer and closer to his home. Seeing Pierre and Emma had been a sort of relaxant for him, but he was still nervous about Amy being in the house. Talking to Pierre and Emma also made him realize he needed to know more about this girl. He knew she was the Countess de Chagney however was Amy her christened name? The more he found about her, the easier it would be to control her. Not to mention the information he could extract from her about her brother.

As he gets closer to his home, he can hear noise reverberating down the halls. Moving faster he is some what drawn to the noise, curious to find its origin; although he has a pretty good idea of who is it. Racing forward he slows to a quiet walk, as not to be hear, and peers around a hidden corner to spy upon the oddly dressed girl. Smiling he chuckles seeing her in his clothes and how misshapen they make her look. Listening closely he can hear she is humming something, something very familiar. It was hummed in a different key and much too fast, but the tune was crystal clear to him.

She was humming his music of the night. Nevertheless, how did she know it? Moving around with ghost like steps, he watches her move around with a broom. Stopping he props, himself up against one of the sculpted pillars and awaits her to notice him. As he continues his watching, she begins to sway back and forward with the broom, as if dancing with another person. Erik smiles and lets out a slight laugh at the sight before him.

Amy takes the broom and spins herself around. Suddenly, something appears in front of her. It is Erik. Amy gasps and her cheeks redden in humiliation. He merely smiles at her.

"How long have you been standing there?" Amy asks moving a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Long enough," Erik says standing and moving toward her,"What are you doing?"

"Well," Amy says,"I figure since I am going to be living here, I might as well help around the house. It needs a lady's touch."

"Thank you," Erik says running a gloved finger along a nearby counter. There was no dust to be found on the smooth wooden surface; she had been busy in his absence. It elated and disturbed him at the same him. Cleaning meant searching, moving, and throwing away of HIS items. "Is dusting all you did?" Erik asks inquisitively, moving across the room to hang up his cloak and examine the room.

"Um," Amy says stumbling to keep up with his quick pace,"I dusted, and cleaned up the mirror shards-"

"Who said it was a mirror?" Erik asks spinning around quickly.

Amy nearly runs into him as he suddenly stops. "No one needed to say anything. I merely picked one up and looked at myself in it...why?"

"Nothing," Erik says moving once again with Amy stumbling to keep up.

"I also wanted to ask you some questions," Amy beings but Erik quickly cuts her off as he looks into the kitchen.

"You did the dishes?"

"Yes, but I was wondering-"

"Did you get anything written?" Erik says moving over to the blank piece of paper. It was a rhetorical question, but Erik wanted to see her response.

"No, I was cleaning remember! Your house was very dusty. Have you ever cleaned?" Amy asks raising her eyebrow, half-joking, half-serious.

"I um..." Erik says trying to think.

"Don't answer that," Amy says smiling widely.

"Did you find anything interesting while you were cleaning?" Erik inquires.

"No," Amy says lying. The charred dolls had caught her interest, but she did not feel like being told that it wasn't any of her business. The best thing, she felt, was to keep silent.

"Tomorrow," Erik begins as he moves to write on the blank piece of paper he gave Amy,"I am going to purchase items for your stay. I need you to make a list for me."

Amy moves around and takes a seat in a chair Erik is standing behind. She pulls it close to the desk and looks at Erik handwriting on the page. "Amy's Supplies" she reads on the paper. Taking the pen in her hand, she begins to make the list. Erik watches over her shoulder, watching her hand move over the paper, creating her list.

"You know," Erik begins hesitantly,"I heard something very interesting on my way down here."

Amy doesn't raise her head but answer,"What was it?"

"I thought you could answer it for me," Erik then dramatically pauses causing Amy to look up,"I thought I heard humming."

Amy's face once again resumes a crimson color. She knew he had seen her dance with the broom, but he had also heard her humming. She would have to control her actions more around him. "Oh...yes well, it helps the work go by faster."

"I did not mean it as an insult, it was quite lovely actually."

Amy smiles slightly at this remark. 'Perhaps,' Erik thinks to himself,'I have another prima donna on my hands.'

"Thank you." She replies lightly.

"I was wondering however," Erik says,"What is the name of the tune to which you hummed."

Amy opens her mouth then shuts it and looks away from Erik in thought. What was the song? Her brow furrows as she tries to remember the origin of the song. There was none coming to mind.

"I'm afraid I don't know," Amy says bashfully,"I think I just made it up..."

Erik smiles happily in relief. If she knew the song, it might have meant she remembered him singing and playing for her; that, in his mind, would have been disastrous. Her subconscious, however, remembered it. It had been interesting to hear someone hum it, especially a female. "Well, it was beautiful," he says and walks away to his room.

Amy watches him walk away, still blushing. She had never thought her voice was beautiful, she had always thought of it was an annoying noise, never beautiful. Finishing the list, she examines it. Make-up, shoes, clothes; there really wasn't much she wanted to ask for. She didn't want him buying lingerie for her, but it was what she needed. Perhaps he would let her do the shopping, yet already she knew that was an empty wish. She would either have to have him purchase her unmentionables or wear the ones she had now. However, she was still missing some essential ladies items. Corset, brush, hair ties; there were so many things she needed. Putting the end of the pen to her lip, she furrows her brow in thought.

Erik re-enters the room in a new change of clothes. Amy looks up and stares at his attire for a moment. It was identical to what she was wearing, except it suited him perfectly.

"How is your list?" He asks catching a glimpse of writing on the paper.

"Oh," Amy stutters looking from him to the paper,"There's just so much, I don't want to burden you."

"Nonsense, whatever you need," Erik says glancing at the paper. Amy looks back down at the paper and puts the pen to it. Erik watches her for a moment, and then disappears down the corridor.

Walking into her room, he sighs. He had been too hasty. Looking at the room and thinking of all the supplies she would need made him angry with himself. He had to start transforming his bachelor pad into a home for his young prisoner...or as she would call it a student. Moving towards the back of the room he looks at her nightgown; it is now almost fully dry. Going past it to the very back of the room, he finds a curtain strung up. Moving it out of his way he looks and sees soap laying near the edge of the water. She had discovered his bath/laundry sink. It was good she did, it was what he intended for her. Going back towards the door, he realizes his clothes have been taken down from the line and folded into a pile. She was earning her keep. It pleased him that he would not have to do those menial tasks later. Looking at the cold rock floor he decides the buy a rug, to spruce up the place. She would maybe need a dresser to keep new clothes, but he could always just remove the things from Christine's room,but perhaps he would buy her a vanity. However, a vanity meant a mirror; though he had no use for one, she surely would.

Pausing Erik thinks. How he despised those wretched pieces of glass. They only reminded him of his mother and his first real birthday. She had been so mad at him she took him upstairs, to the only mirror in the house, and showed him his face. At first, he thought it was a monster, but all too soon, he lost his childhood innocence and became aware of the cold truth. He was the monster, and that was all he would ever been. Clenching his knuckles until they turn bone white he tries to dispel the memories with tear stained eyes. Turning from the room quickly, he races to his room. As fast as possible, he opens and slams the door, burying himself in the solitude of his room.

****************

She heard the door shut and when she went to find him, she could not. The only place in the house she had yet to be in was his room, and Amy seriously doubted Erik would like to be disturbed in his room. She went back to finishing her list and then cleaning. She had very little way of telling time except for the clock in the ornate sitting room. But when her stomach began to rumble she didn't need a clock to tell her it was time to eat. Moving into the kitchen Amy used what food she could find, which was very little, to make herself dinner. She gingerly poured soup into two bowls and put a bowl on a tray. Walking down the hall as balanced as she could she soon found herself outside Erik's room.

Placing the food on the floor, Amy puts her ear to the door. She couldn't hear any movement behind the door. Touching the knob with what stealth she has, Amy tries to open the door. To her dismay she finds it locked. Finally she raises her fist and distinctly raps on the door. "Erik," Amy calls out. There is no reply, but instead the sound of something falling or being knocked over. The noise startles Amy and she calls out again,"Erik are you okay?"

"Yes, what do you want?" he shouts from behind the door, sounding rather annoyed.

"I brought you dinner," Amy says looking at the soup,"I hope you eat soup!"

"I'm not hungry," Erik says shortly.

"But need to eat something," Amy says confused.

"I need not do anything," Erik retorts.

"But-"

"I do not hunger and that is final," Erik shouts from his room.

Amy scowls at the door as if it would make him change his mind. With an exasperated sigh she turns from the door and heads towards the kitchen to dine alone; she was used to being alone.

When she finally finished eating and cleaning the dishes she sat down in one of the lush velvet chairs by the crackling fireplace. Taking an ink blotted piece of paper and pen she soon began writing down simple ideas which soon turned into a short story. Suddenly the clock let out a loud 'dong dong'. Turning lathargically towards the clock Amy's eyes widen as she reads nine o'clock on the ornate clock face. Was it really that late?

Getting up from the chair and retrieving a candle she goes to her room, with a quick glance at Erik's unopened and probably locked door, she re-enters her room. With out thinking of changing into her night gown she lays her story filled paper on the nightstand, as well as the candle. She sits on her bed a moment to ponder the day's events. Erik was a mystery; a mystery she did not know if she would ever figure out. Sighing she removes the baggy pants and crawls under the covers only in the loose shirt and her undergarments. As soon as she settles, she rolls over and with a puff of air blows out the candle allowing the room to be consumed in darkness.

*****************

It had been nearly an hour since Erik had heard any noise from beyond his door. Opening his door cautiously he smells something appetizing from below his face. Looking down he sees a bowl of cold soup staring back at him. Looking around he doesn't see Amy anywhere. Kneeling down he dips his finger into the icey soup confirming that it is quite cold. Taking his finger from the soup he brings it to his nose, sniffing it; it did smell very appetizing. Sticking his moist finger in his mouth he confirms his suspicions. She was a surprisingly good cook, which meant he wouldn't have to cook very often. The thought of not slaving for her makes him smile. Picking up the cold dish he disappears into his solitude once more to plan for the upcoming day.


	16. Our Lessons Begin

The noise a clock was what woke her. Opening her eyes into slits Amy peers around, then rubbing the sleep from her eyes she sits up and stretches. When she finally opens her eyes, she jumps startled. Her entire room was remodled. There was a nightstand beside her bed with a small ornate clock and a doyley for decoration. Her bed had been against the wall, but it was now lateral to the wall and built up into a frame. A dresser was facing her across from the bed, only a few feet from the foot of the new frame around her bed. Sitting there in a quandry she stares at her sheets. Was she still in the same room? How had Erik done all this?

Looking back over to the nightstand she finds a note she had glanced over in her fevered survailence of the room. Picking it up delicately she reads it with wonderment.

_Amy,_

_Gone out for awhile. Be back by afternoon. Breakfast is in the kitchen. Do not waunder._

_-Erik_

Amy smiles at the note. She could imagine Erik saying these things to her; he was a man of little words. Sighing she reads over the note again. Laying it down on the nightstand once more she swings the sheets from her legs and moves so they are dangling from the bed. Taking her hand to one of the bed posts she rubs it with her hand. It was a beautiful wood, so smooth and so colored. How had he managed to move everything around with out her even stirring? She must be a very heavy sleeper to sleep through all of this. Sliding down from the bed, her feet land on, not the hard, cold floor of the cave, but a warm fluffy rug. Burying her toes deeply inside the soft fibers she smiles. He did care about her comfortableness.

But one thing was for sure, her outfit was not comfortable. Her pants begin to droop, reminding her that she is still in Erik's clothes. Moving to the back of the room she searches the lines of now dry clothes for her nightgown to only find it missing.

*****************

"Erik! Emma he's back," Pierre shouts into the back of the store as Erik enters the store.

"Erik!" Emma exclaims excitedly rushing from the back room. Erik smiles at the couple and greets them warmly.

"We weren't expecting you back so soon," Pierre admits to Erik.

"This is of great importance Pierre, and besides I did tell you I would be here today," Erik says smiling.

"Is it still about the clothes?" Emma asks eagerly.

"Yes," Erik replies.

"Well have you brought the girl for her measurements?" Emma asks searching behind Erik for the girl.

"No, Emma I'm sorry," Erik says appologizing half heartedly.

"Well we need something to go by," Pierre says almost frustrated.

"That is why," Erik says pulling out a sachle,"I have brought her nightgown."

"Erik!" Emma says snaching the garment from his hands,"You should know better than to be carrying around women's clothes or even snooping through her belongings!! How improper!"

Erik looks at Emma in disbelief and opens his mouth as if to explain the reason for his having the lingerie,"No! It was hanging up, she wasn't...I mean I didn't..." But before he can babble on much longer, Pierre raises his hand silencing Erik.

"This will do perfectly," Pierre says laying the dress down on the table.

"Emma, go get some of the essentials," Pierre says. Emma quickly squirries into the back room.

"Essentials?" Erik asks.

Pierre pulls a measuring tape down the length of the dress,"Yes, just some feminine essentials." Erik knew then not to ask many more questions. There were somethings in this world he as a genius didn't even know...and some things he would rather keep that way.

Emma enters into the main room with a box then returns quickly to the back room to retrieve more "essentials". Erik, curious at the thought of what may be in the box, moves over and props open the lid. Erik's eyebrow arches in a confused gesture.

"UH!" Emma says tapping Erik's hand in a scolding gesture,"Not for you Monsieur Nosey!"

"What is it?" Erik asks in utter bewilderment. Emma smiles, amused by Erik child like curiousity.

"It's better you not know," Emma says smiling and winking.

"Oh Emma, stop your teasing!" Pierre scolds lightly,"It's nothing like that Erik." Erik, still confused, looks to the box in wonderment. Most likely Amy would know what to do with the feminine "essentials". Suddenly Erik remembers the list he had made Amy make the previous night. Pulling it out he hands it to Emma and explains its importance.

"Well I already have half these things in the boxes already, and she is missing a few. A few things she probably didn't want to write down," Emma says winking at Erik. Erik again feels puzzled. Never before had he had so much confusion over shopping. Woman were indeed a complete mystery to Erik. Did he want to unravel the mystery?

Pierre was now writting down a few measurements and Emma was still putting things together for Amy. "Erik," Emma finally says breaking the busy silence,"what size shoe does she wear?"

Erik winces; this was something he did not know and he knew Emma would scold him for not thinking of it. "I um...." Erik begins to prattle but Emma cuts him off with a sigh.

"You don't know?" Emma asks slightly annoyed. Erik shrugs his shoulders in an appologetic manner. "Its okay," Emma says,"Just tell me what shoes you think she will need."

"Well," Erik says then begins to think. She would need something to keep her feet warm as she moved around the house. He had no plans of her going outside, but did he want to buy them for her so that she would think that she might be going outside? "I'm not really sure what kind of shoes woman wear," Erik admits, hoping Emma will choose for him.

"Is she going to be going outside?" Emma asks.

Erik pauses then replies,"She will mostly be staying around the house."

"So I'll give her a pair of slippers and maybe some casual everyday shoes," Emma says and disappears once more into the back room.

"Erik," Pierre says, summoning Erik to his side,"You are in luck. Emma and I have a few dresses that might just fit your young lady." With that, Pierre moves around the counter and heads to one of the racks with dresses on them. Pierre scans with his expert fingers through the hangers, picking out different dresses until he has gathered enough to carry. Pierre next asks Erik to move an empty rack from the side of the room to the middle of the room so Pierre could sufficiantly display the dresses for Erik.

Placing each dress on the rack he spreads them out and allows Erik to survey each dress. There were about five in all. "Is this all?" Erik asks.

"All that might fit her. We could go for bigger sizes, but we wouldn't want to offend her now would we?" Pierre says smiling.

"No we wouldn't," Erik says smiling back. He examines each of the dresses closely. Quality wasn't a problem, but he had to know think if Amy would like them. He knew very little about her, but he had to try and imagine her in each, which for him, was quite easy. First was a navey blue dress. It was low cut to the chest, with long sleeves. It was made of two parts, but was indeed one dress; a warm one at that. It was simple and it thought it would suite her eyes.

The next was an emerald. It had the same basic shape as the blue but had lace lining the collar area. Lace was also on the bottom of the dress and end of the sleeves. It was simply ornate, and that was what Erik liked about it. The color would once again bring out her eyes; one of his favorite traits.

Next he found another simple brown dress. It was a replica of the blue. The brown color was one he did not know if he liked. Picturing Amy in it he felt as if her hair and the dress would run together. Still, there were not many dresses for him to be picky over. The next two were top and skirt outfits. Erik smiles and turns to Pierre, "These will do marvelously."

Pierre smiles and takes the rack back into the back room to package them. Emma next finishes the final touches on her package. "There we go, all set!" Emma says smiling.

"Thank you Emma," Erik says smiling in appreciation.

"If she needs anything else, you can always come back. It's so nice seeing you Erik," Emma says taking Erik's large hand in hers.

"I enjoy our meetings as well," Erik replies gently squeezing her soft aging hands in his. Pierre brings the packages out front and Erik looks at a now mountainous pile of "essentials". "I'm going to need a carriage," Erik says and leaves outside to call a carriage.

**************

After finding her nightgown missing, to her dismay, she begins to feel a growing hunger in her belly. Sighing and looking once more at the late time of the day she has yet again awaken she moves towards the kitchen to retrieve a cinnamon roll from the previous day. As she munches on the cinammon roll she begins to look around. What did "do not waunder" mean? She was quite curious about the house still, and where exactly she was. Moving around she goes back into the library to browse the book collection better. She finds the book he had recommended and decides to curl up and read. The fire had begun to smolder and cast a red glow but she knew how to remody this.

She got up and found the nearby wood pile. She picked up a few small logs and stirred the fire until it was roaring. She smiled and admired her work. Though she had gotten dirty, it was worth it to sit by the light and warmth of the fire to read her novel. It was not long until she grew bored of sitting and reading. Just knowing she was alone when someone could be with her made her feel complacive. Getting up she moves to his room and touches the knob again. Locked. She knew if would be, but she was so curious about the man she was staying with that it was nearly all she could think about. Suddenly it struck her. She was living with a man...a single man. They were both unwed and living together. Suddenly it all made sense. She was taken in secrecy to study with this man, in his home so that she could focus completely on her studies. If people knew about this they would think badly of both she and Erik. It all made sense. She wished he had explained this to her, but perhaps he was embarassed, or didn't want her to think he would take advantage of her. She smiled and appreciated the thoughtfulness.

As she waundered to the front she heard something click while she walked. Looking down there was another mirror shard. After glancing around she realized there were absolutely no mirrors in the entire house. Picking it up she noticed that she was filthy. Distraught, she noticed that she had dust and soot on her face as well as her hair being rediculously messy. She could not believe that she had been walking around her looking like this. It was time for a bath. She moved into her room. Taking the mirror shard with her. She disrobed and sunk into the deliciously warm water. She submerged herself and reimerged soaked. Grabbing the soap she scrubbed her face, hair, and body until she felt clean as a button. She doused herself over and over with the warm water, revelling in the amazing feeling. It was so amazing that she did not hear her door open.

Erik had become very worried when he did not find her anywhere. He entered her room and ran about shouting her name. When he came to the curtain he tore it to one side. There he discovered her underwater. When she rose above the water, her skin slick with water and she unknowing. Amy screamed when she heard him behind her. "Erik!!" she shouted covering herself and ducking underwater,"get out!!"

He went to appologize, but covered his eyes and shut the cloth. "I appologize, I was worried when you didn't answer me."

She still covered herself even though she knew he was behind the curtain. "Why would I go anywhere?" she asked increduously.

"I don't know...like I said I appologize," Erik say,"I didn't see anything," he says truthfully. He had only seen her back and that was enough. She had scarrs streaking her pale damp skin. His breath was caught in his throat.

When he didn't say anything she called out timidly,"Erik..."

He did not reply. He couldn't say anything until he saw the dresses on the bed. "Yes?"

"Oh, I just wondered if you were still there," she says. The sick feeling in her stomach told her that he had seen her back and she had not ducked fast enough.

"I just wanted to let you know that the dresses I have gotten for you are laying on your bed," Erik says,"Along with a few other essentials. Don't worry, the woman at the store collected these so I didn't see anything so I don't know what all is in there."

"Thank you," she says still sick to her stomach.

He turns and quickly exits, embarassed that this whole ordeal had taken place because he thought she would leave. Trust then came to mind. He had never really and truely trusted anyone. He kept tabs on Giry to make sure she did her job, but he supposed that there was a level of trust involved. He would have to trust her to stay put. Besides, he thought to himself, he could lock all the exits to keep her within his grasp. He moved to the sitting room to find a fire built. This girl was like no woman he had ever met. She was very self sufficient. So much so that she did not need a man around. He would not have to worry about her when he left the house. When he looked around he did not know what to do. He did not want to look as if he was waiting for her to come out. That was what he needed least, an awkward moment. So he retrieved a pen and paper and began a lesson for her.

When he heard her door open, he was determined to not speak about the previous moment. She rounded the corner and stunned him. She finaly looked like a lady. She had chosen the emerald dress. When their eyes locked he was stunned. The dress was as he predicted and enhanced her eyes beautifully. He was uncertain whether to compliment her or not. So he simply stated,"I hope you are much more comfortable."

"Yes, thank you," she replies,"they are all lovely."

"And the right size I hope," he says smiling.

"Yes, perfect," she says smilng,"you are full of many surprises," she says with a laugh. He is about to apologize until she continues saying,"So what of today's study Master?"

He tries not to smirk at the formality and stands to take her to the library. He gestures with his hand and she leads the way to the library. Erik takes the opertunity and glances at her pinned up hair down to her hips. She had all the proper curves that his clothes did not allow to appear. He was pleased with what he saw. When she turned around for his instructions he noticed the crescent hills of her breasts that the dress made prominent. Christine never had such a figure even with a corset. He gestured for her to sit as he tried to clear his mind so he could become the teacher he had once been.

As she seated herself he went into his room and retrieved his list of things for her to do. "There are many things you must accomplish if you are to be the best writer Paris has ever seen," he states simply.

"I don't know about the best," she says humbly.

"When I do something I either achieve perfection or nothing, there is no middle. I will teach you until you reach absolute perfection," he says confidently. She smiles at him and he returns her smile. He never knew that smiling could be contagious. "Now," he says,"Close your eyes..." She raises her eye brow and opens her mouth to question him, but he holds up a hand and says,"I have something for you..." She again opens her mouth to argue she didn't need anything but she shut her mouth as he raised his eyes and smiled. She closes her eyes. She was so obedient, he thought to himself. And with her eyes closed patiently she looked so innocent. "Now hold out your hands," he said. She sighed and obeyed by moving her hands from her lap to above the desk. He pulled a package out from his hidden jacket pocket.

She felt the weight placed in her hands and waited until he told her to open her eyes. As he did she saw the brown wrapping of a small present. "Open it," he urges. She smiles and begins to gingerly unwrap the package. "Erik, you did not have to get me anything," she says until she begins to see what the present is. "Oh my," she says looking up at Erik then down at the book. "Is this what I think it is?" she asks. He shrugs as she now begins to tear the paper open. She gasps as she holds a leather bound book, full of blank pages. She thumbs through every page until she finds the front page has her name wirtten on it and today's date. Amy then smells the pages as she flips the pages. Erik raised his eyebrow, unsure of what she was doing. She then startles him as she throws back the chair as she jumps up and throughs her arms around him. "Thank you so much," she says squeezing him.

He freezes, not able to bring his hands up to return the hug. He had never been touched in such a delicate way before by anyone...not even his mother. He did not know what to do. Suddenly he knew she sensed his anxiety when her body tensed up. She quickly released him and stepped back, her eyes lowered in confusion. "I apologize," she says rubbing her hands,"but thank you, I am just so excited...it means alot to me that you believe in me."

"It's my job," he says smiling professionally. She nods and sits down. "This is for your novel. I want this to be a compilation of your work. Or- hopefully- one complete novel. I also bought you clean lined paper. These are for you assignments. For your first assignment," he says placing a single sheet in front of her,"I want you to write your alphabet twenty times."

"Twenty times?" she shouts,"but why, that is something a child would do."

"You are lucky you know how to even write, many women do not. You must learn every curve and slant of every letter intimately before you can bend and mold them into your thoughts and words," he says poetically. She opens her mouth and then shuts it. "A wise decision," he says smirking. "When you finish I will give you your next assignment." He walked to his room to compose his first letter in a series of letter he would send to her brother.


	17. Questions Arise

"Do you think she left?" Christine asks.

"It's possible, but why would she leave?" Raoul asks frustrated that it had been two days since he had seen his sister.

"Raoul," Christine says patting the seat beside her urging him to stop pacing. "If your sister is anything like you she will be fine. She may just be restless because of being cooped up at school."

"But why wouldn't she say something?" he asks.

"Could she be visiting a friend?" she asks.

"I'm not sure...I'm not sure of anything about her, she and I have not spent time together in so long. I've been at business school and she at prepping school." He sighs. "Where could she be?"


	18. The First Letter

She grumbles as she writes each letter but hopes that this will help her. Amy sighed and hoped that this really would work for her. She hoped he would not focus too much on things beside her writing. Everything else seemed very boring, but he wanted to create an educated woman, which she appreciated very much. Finally she finishes. She knocks and waits patiently for him to answer his door. "I'm finished..." she says, but receives no response. When she doesn't get a response she moves back to the library. She picks up the blank book and opens to the first page where her name is written in Erik delicate handwriting. She turned the page and found he had written something for her. "_Let your spirit be your inspiration." _It was very poetic and perhaps Erik was. She still knew little about him. It bothered her...but only alittle. He had a right to his secrecy, because in no time they would be just strangers on a street. She an educated woman and he back to whatever life he had, and she would not know the difference.

Amy shook her thoughts from her head and changed thought as she gently turned the blank pages. As each stared back at her she pictured writing covering the pages. What would her story be about? Who would it involve? She needed to think of structure before plot and that was what Erik was there to teach her. As she gazed at each blank page, Amy felt more and more excited to cover each page with her imagination.

"Excited?" she hears startling her so that she drops the book. "I appologize," he says walking forward.

She blushes then reaches quickly for the papers with the twenty copies of the alphabet,"Here, I finished the first assignment." He takes the papers and looks over each set of lower and upper case letters. He could tell when he had taken her time and when she had just tried to make it go faster. She sat patiently as he surveyed her work. She noticed that he had changed from he outting clothes to his simple white shirt and black pants. He looked quite comfortable.

"Your penmanship is very good," he says,"when you were trying." He smiles as she sighes. He expected her to defend herself but she knew better. "This will be your warm up exercise, and as it gets better, we will see about reducing the task. Amy smiled, hoping it would be a quick improvement. "Now, we will have our first lesson." Amy grabbed her pen and a sheet of blank paper, eager to take notes. Erik smiled to himself at her eagerness. "For every novel there is structure...and this is where we will start."

Erik lecture for two hours on the structure and components in which a novel is based upon. They covered such things as plot, setting, characters, cause and effect, climax, and many other componets. When the clock strikes two he realizes that she has missed lunch and dismisses her to eat. As she eats lunch he begin to plan out how long with will take him to cover each component meticulously. This was going to be longer than he thought. But she was paying him attention eagerly...almost as eager as...Chrstine. The pen in his hand gave way as his grip crushed the pen. Christine. Just thinking her name made his blood boil to the point where he threw the remains of the pen and began to storm back to his room, but as he rounded the corner he ran into Amy. In his blind rampage to his room, Erik walked so hard he knocked Amy and her tray of food onto the floor. As the tray clattered, it roused Erik from his rage. He shook the cloud of anger from his eyes and saw Amy, disheveled and on the floor, frantically appologizing and picking up the floor.

"...I just thought you might like something to eat..." was the first thing he heard clearly. He sighed, ashamed that he let his rage consume him.

"Here," he says getting onto his knees,"let me help, it was my fault for not watching my step."

"Neither was I...so I guess it is both our faults," she says smiling as her hand meets his on the now empty plate. He looks at her and nods his head.

"Thank you," he says picking up the parts of the sandwich,"it was thoughtful."

"Well, I don't think I have seen you eat in the two days I have been here," she says.

He shrugs,"My food is food for thought." She smiles and shakes her head. "I have broken up our lessons into days and weeks of specialty study."

"If you don't mind me asking," she says from the kitchen where she had placed the mess,"How long am I staying here?" He pauses. How long would it take to teach her? "I mean my brother will be missing me..." she says bringing her brother to the forefront of his mind.

"Your brother," he says dasterdly thinking of him missing his sister. He would need to check in on them soon to see if they have noticed her untimely disappearance. He would also have to create a plan on how exactly this was going to affect his revenge then how his revenge was going to hurt Christine and Raoul. Just the kidnapping, once he found out, would frighten and scare him. Suddenly, he watched as Amy went back and sat diligently at her desk, arranging her notes and getting ready for the next lecture. He realized that he had taken something very precious from Raoul and that alone would hurt him. It was perfect because Raoul had taken from him something he cared about. This plan was perfect but how permanent would this kidnap be? How long would she be here and what would he end up doing with her? He shook his head and tried to leave these thoughts to his private time.

He taught his lesson and dismissed her to do her reading and more timelining of the story in which she was writing. When he approached her writings she covered them quickly. "I do not like secrecy," he said, even though he was keeping all the secrets,"how can I help you if I don't know what you need help with?"

"I want you to be surprised and not read anything until its done." Erik pursed his lips. "Promise you will not read this," Amy says seriously.

He sighs,"I promise."

From that moment Amy began working on her novel. Erik began working on something as well. He took her twenty copies of the alphabet and studied each one, looking for consistent letters. He then, after writing the letters himself, composed a tear jerking letter to Raoul from...not Erik...but Amy. By using her handwriting to compose the letter, Raoul should be more worried for her once he receives a letter that was very abrubt and very obscure.

_Raoul,_

_My trip home has met with some complications keeping me away from home. Do not attempt to come find me or it will cause more complications. I will contact you to give you more instructions._

_- Amy_

After he finished the first letter, he rode out to the mansion. He took his usual path and crept into the shadows of the de Chagney estate. He climbed the tree he knew looked in on the master bedroom. He smiled to himself and wondered if he would be crying. He did not notice any evidence that he had contacted the authorities while he was out getting her clothes. When he reached the branched and gazed inside he gasped at the sight before him. He saw the boy's strong back and he was thrusting roughly into Christine. He could hear no sounds but only saw her open mouth and closed eyes. Every muscle in his body clenched. He began to shake with rage and it took all his control to not burst into the room and slay both of them. No that would be too simple, he had to hurt, and evidently he they were not hurting enough. He raced home after throwing the letter at a startled servant and thundered down to his cavernous home. He went straight to him room where he grabbed a long thick rope. In only a few seconds the rope transformed into a noose. In blind rage, he trudged to Amy's room. He was going to kill her and leave her body on the steps of the mansion. That would teach both of them.

As he opened the door he suddenly stopped. There she was, asleep in her bed as he had first seen her. She slept in the nightgown he had first seen. Her eyes were closed in a deep sleep and her chest moved the covers up and down slowly. She looked so peaceful. He was frozen in his place by confliction. This girl before him knew nothing of the sins and transgression of her brother nor Christine's and that was why he decided to keep her in the first place. But where was he taking this? He knew that the letters will create suspicion, but he did not need Raoul to know he particularly had Amy. He turned and shut the door. He leaned against the door exaughsted, taking a few deep breaths. In and Out. In and Out. He felt, like a wave retracting back into the sea, his rage subside. He looked down at his hands, to the rope, the thing he nearly killed his devoted pupil. A girl that he understood because he had lived her life. He dropped the rope and walked over to chair to think and before he realized it, the clock struck three in the morning. He picked up his rope and returned in his room to sleep undisturbed until he woke.

**************

"Madame," a servent says the next morning approaching Christine,"here is a letter for the Count, it is most urgent."

"Thank you," Christine says accepting the letter. She knew she shouldn't read the letter, but she was curious. Opening it she became very confused. It was short and simple, and yet disturbing. She ran from breakfast to the master suit to find Raoul dressing.

"Raoul, this letter came this morning," she says handing him the letter. He stops what he is doing and reads the letter. He looks it over back and front re-reading it three times. This was odd. Something was wrong. "What should we do?"

"We will do nothing," he says sadly,"who knows what these complications are and how we might exaserbate them if we attempt to help. We must wait for the next letter."


	19. Lonely Company

Erik did not surface all day. Amy sadly went about her day by cleaning some more of the home and then writing in her novel. Though she was worried about Erik, his door was locked and he would answer none of her calls from outside the door. She knew something was wrong, but Erik appeared to be a very volatile person. One moment he was happy and the next he was sulking in his room. She just wished he would open up to her, however secrecy was appart of the job. When she really sat down and began writing, her story began pouring out of her. Amy hoped she was doing what he expected, because it was going better than she expected. As the clock struck seven in the evening, she felt ridiculously lonely. There was someone here and she had never felt so lonely. She went with one last plea to his door. "Erik," she called and waited for a response. Slowly the door opened. Erik looked very unrested and almost disheveled. Amy lost her thought until Erik's voice jolted her back to from her daze.

"What is it?" Erik asks evidently annoyed.

"I built a fire...because its cold...and I wondered," she says struggling for words,"I wondered if you would keep me company while I read..." Erik looked and felt stunned that she would request his prescense. He left a long pause because of his disbelief. "If you don't want to it is fine," she says and walks back to the fireplace and sits with her book on her lap. She felt embarassed that she asked her teacher to join her because she was lonely. She was a big girl and should be able to sit and read by herself. She scolded herself for impulsively asking him.

"Is this seat taken?" she hears startling her. Erik has put on a robe and was holding a book.

Amy smiles,"No...not at all."


	20. Do You Know This Noose?

Days went by and slowly with every letter Erik composed his sorrows ebbed. He and Amy soon fell into a pattern of waking, learning, and working. Erik, who was not much for conversation, enjoyed the silent company that Amy soon became. She, who enjoyed conversations, found it hard to keep Erik's silent habits. But soon, every night they both ended their day in front of the fire place. Erik, composing a letter, taking care of papers for the Opera Populaire, or discretely working on a music score, and Amy, reading a book but mostly working on her novel, sat together in silence until the clock struck ten and Amy was off to bed.

One particular night, Amy seemed restless. She kept looking from Erik then averting her eyes. Erik only caught the tail end of her glances, but he could feel her eyes on him, however he did not let her see him notice her. When he felt the next gaze he replied with his eyes still glued to his papers,"Staring is quite rude you know..." he looks up,"or did your parents not teach you such," he says locking eyes with a smile.

Amy blushes,"I appologize...it's just...I want to ask you something...but I don't know how..." Erik was concerned. It had to be a particularly difficult or personal question for her to tarry from asking it. He then remembered his mask. It was times like these he cursed himself for believing she would ignore the mask forever. As he lingered in his thoughts she went on. "I found something while I was cleaning..." Erik nearly cursed aloud. What hadn't he gotten rid of? What had his haste cost him? And why had he permitted her to clean his house, it was his after all and she had no business touching his belongings.

Instead of reacting illogically he slowly said,"Show me..."

She stood from her chair and went where she had replaced the object. When she reappeared, something very familiar to him was in her hands. A noose. He had them stored in so many nooks and crannies he was actually surprised she had not found one sooner. The question now was, did she know what it was? He tried to remain stoic as he gazed up on it. "You found my rope," he says smiling sarcastically.

Amy pauses looking down increduously,"Isn't this a noose?" He was caught. Erik shakes his head to the affirmative. There was a pause. Was Amy frightened he wondered? Would she now mistrust him? His mind raced behind a calm facade of a face. "Have you killed someone?" Amy asks lowly, locking eyes once again with him to search for the lie he may tell.

With eyes locked he did not faulter when he answered,"Yes." What was her next move? If she ran he could always lock her away in the prison cells.

"Really?" she asks. Erik suddenly became confused. She sounded happy.

"Yes, really," he says still serious.

"Wow," Amy says letting a small smile escape. She took him by surprise as she knelt before him, her eyes intend on him as she asks,"What was it like?" She was kneeling and ready to listen. He hardly knew how to answer her- this was all so strange. He began to tell her minimal details but soon he was standing almost acting out every action he and his victim made. She was so enthralled that she listened for what seemed like hours as he dramatically and emphatically recalled each occasion. He never knew she would enjoy these stories and he never imagined he would share these stories to someone who kept them so light hearted. As they laughed together he saw her yawn.

"Uh oh," he says pointing out the yawn.

"I'm not tired I promise," she says protesting.

He gives her a stern look. "I think you need a good night's rest so I can have all your attention tommorrow."

"Yes sir," she says gathering her things. He notices she takes a secretly tries to take a quill with her to bed. At her bedroom door she pauses. "Erik..."

"Yes," he says looking away from the fire. He had never loved hearing his real name so much.

"Thank you for the stories...I really enjoyed them," she said trying not to smile as much as she wanted.

"It was my pleasure," he said honestly. She smiled widely then shut the door behind her.


End file.
